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Urthwyfe, Ch 7

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Due in no small part to the number of years Tahra had been on the road she was no stranger to awakening in strange places, in (and as often as not, out of) a bed. During her journies she was also no stranger awakening next to a warm body. When she usually woke up next to another, however, it was almost always Shael, which meant those times were reserved for nights in which she had slept in the field. It was, therefore novel in a way to awaken in a bed, her back pressed against a warm, furred chest with muscled arms wrapped around her.

Aeolas' grip on her was gentle, partly from the fact that he was still asleep, but also because most things about him seemed to be. She rotated in his grasp, turning to watch him while he slept. There was a masculine chisle to the shape of his jaw and the deep furrow of his brow, even noticeable when he slept, was a reminder that he'd dealt with a lot in his life, but, in those minutes of early morning, she found him to be handsome, and almost delicate.

There were parts of himself he'd hidden from everyone in his village-- everyone he'd known his whole life, and yet she'd uncovered them; he'd shared them with her as openly as he had shared his bed, and it felt rewarding in a way she hadn't expected. She was still focused on his face as his muzzle opened, tongue curled as he let out a huge yawn. The Wolf's arms withdrew from her even as he arched his back, furred belly pressing into hers and his toe joins popped when he stretched his legs. Finally, after quite the performance, his eyes slowly opened. His pupils constricted then dilated as he focused in on her; a soft smile spread his thin black lips before he spoke. "Good morning."

Tahra ran a hand up the fur of his chest, then back down to his belly before sliding it around his back to pull herself a little closer to him, giving him a kiss at the end of his muzzle. "Good morning yourself."

She heard the sound of his tail wagging beneath the covers as he leaned forward to give her a short peck on the lips back. "It IS a good morning... I had half expected you to be gone with the sun."

The Urthwyfe raised an eyebrow as she reached up to smooth out a portion of his mane. "I have a duty to your village... I wouldn't be leaving so soon."

He chuckled, wrapping a large paw around her wrist and pulling it away from his head. "I meant from my home. You did not strike me to be the kind of woman to spend an entire night with a man."

She raised an eyebrow, bemused by his entirely accurate assessment, but she wasn't about to let him get away with such a correct observation without a little chiding. "Oh? You think I'm the kind to slip out in the middle of the night, do you?"

His smile was a little more subtle than her own. "I heard that Urthwyfes do not often spend long anywhere and I presumed that was true for any men who enter their lives."

Tahra smirked in response. "Not entirely inaccurate, yes. Urthwyfes are married to our work. We may take lovers, but never mates; husbands and marriage are not a part of our lives... but that doesn't mean we cannot enjoy the company of others."

The butcher sat up with an indistinct grunt of a response, sliding closer so he could wrap his arms around her, laying his muzzle on her shoulder. "Well... I don't know where we are on that scale, but I enjoyed YOUR company."

She gave one of his forearms a gentle pat before disengaging, sitting up with her feet on the floor, her back to him. "This has been... nice. I'm sorry if me staying the entire night will start your neighbors talking in the background about having seen an Urthwyfe departing your home in the morning."

Chuckling, he slid across the mattress to sit where she'd been moments after she vacated it. He reached out to encircle her wrist with his paw. "I would have thought you'd be worried about being seen with the village butcher... though, now that you mention it... I can't help but feel that you're right. It would probably be wrong to have my neighbors see an Urthwyfe exit my home in the morning."

Tahra glanced back at him inquisitively; she knew he had some insecurities, but her thought was that they were just having some light banter. "It would, would it?"

When she caught sight of his smirk she realized he was still playing, and his follow up confirmed it. "Mmm... I'd rather they see her leaving my home in the afternoon." He leaned down to kiss her palm.

His quick wit convinced her to stay with him that morning and, rather than join the village for a communal breakfast, they ate together. The meal, as expected, was meat heavy with three different cuts, a pair of eggs, and a hearty, thick slice of grain bread for each of them. Tahra was not often cooked for and, although it was a simple meal, it was well prepared, hearty, and filling. She hadn't even realized that, by the time they'd finished chatting and eating, neither had bothered to get dressed.

With the meal complete, and pleasant, casual conversation (a rarity for her), she finally went to retrieve her clothes. "Last night and this morning were both wonderful, Aeolas... but I've come to Mott with a taks to complete so I should start the day."

He remained at the table for a few seconds longer before standing, gathering the plates, and bringing them to the wash basin. "You are really going to take over for the old priest and lead The Devotion for the town?"

Even as she focused on dressing she still noticed the way his ears lilted when he asked the question out of the corner of her eye. Securing her belt, she turned to regard him. "That IS why I'm here, yes. The elders of Mott called on the aid of an Urthwyfe to help since your village has no spiritual leader. The Devotion is why I'm here."

Aeolas nodded, almost as if her confirming her purpose were an afterthought to his line of thinking. He wiped down the table with a paw towel and finally went to dress himself. "Ah... I see."

Remaining where she was, Tahra called him on his question. "You don't seem to like my answer... what's wrong?"

Aeolas had just managed to slip on his loincloth before her question came out; he turned to regard her wearing nothing else. "Couldn't say, to be honest. I guess..." he paused, eyes seemingly lost on some point far behind her, and likely past the wall too, "I've just never felt drawn to the woods or the spirits-- it all seems... strange."

She gestured to the rest of his clothes to provide 'permission' for him to continue dressing while she moved to the single armchair in his home, taking a seat as she addressed his statement. "Spirits are perfectly normal, Aeolas."

His muzzle scrunched up, causing his whiskers to quirk as he slipped his leggings on one leg then the other. As he buckled his belt he turned to regard her, still shirtless, but focused far more on her than his bare fur. "I should clarify then: I'M the wierd one... and I guess I have been for quite awhile."

Tahra remained where she sat, patiently folding her hands in her lap as she regarded him. "You seem perfectly normal to me. Quiet and withdrawn when you're around your overbearing family... a little goofy when you want to be... definitely lonely--"

He stepped closer, quickly speaking up. "That's it. Exactly. I... just... I don't really fit in. At least, I don't FEEL like I do, except in rare situations like..." Aeolas looked down at his paw, which he held clenched in front of himself. His eyes slowly rose to meet her gaze and his fist slackened. "...like this one, Urthwyfe. Right now. Here. I feel like I fit... with you."

She stands, raising her hands defensively with her palms held out toward him. "No, Aeolas. What this is isn't--"

"I know." He waved away her objection, turning away as he seemed to explore the floor with his eyes, stopping the search only once he'd located his shirt. "It isn't anything like that. I know you're an Urthwyfe and I know you won't be staying here forever. I KNOW you have to go and that... whatever THIS is, isn't.... that."

His words said that he understood, but his final statement's tone suggested that he didn't wholly believe what he said-- or, rather, that he didn't want to. Still, she chose to focus on his words and not his tone. "Right. Yes. This is good-- WAS good. I'll be moving on once The Devotion is done and, less than two weeks from now, I'll be leaving Mott, and I may quite likely never be back. I'm glad you understa--"

Aeolas spoke up quickly. "I have no real connections here. When the time comes, I could just as easily join you on the road."

Letting out a long sigh, Tahra stood, facing him directly. "Aeolas, you were born in this village. Your family is here. This home--" she gestured around to the room, "--is your home. Think about it for a moment: you could no sooner go with me when I leave than I could stay here with you when my task is done."

Silence filled the house for several long seconds as the butcher's gaze focused on anything and everything that wasn't her. At long last, however, he nodded, saying quietly. "True. I know you speak true."

She took in a deep breath, and let it out slowler than her earlier sigh. "Like I said, Aeolas... last night was what I think both of us needed. But, no; you cannot come with me when I leave."

He nodded in what she took to be final and complete understanding. When he finally met her gaze she saw a new sense of purpose however, and he pursued it with a strong will. "You are still here for another fortnight though. Is there anything to stop us from spending more time together while you remain here?"

Tahra couldn't help but see a little humor in his insistence. "I made that much of an impression, did I?"

He offered a sheepish-yet-still-vulnerable smile. "It feels good to not feel lonely."

She maintained a steady gaze on him for several seconds, assessing his request, his demeanor, his stance-- all cues, verbal and non-verbal. Tahra attempted to get a feel for what he was asking and what emotion was ruling his request. She knew that there was a balancing act when it came to the careful walk between hope and desperation and an Urthwyfe had to understand that some people could be self-destructive in their wants. In the end, she didn't mind the idea of spending more time with him, but he had to know her limits. "I will consider it, Aeolas. No promises."

The Wolf's smile seemed almost relieved. "That's... more than I could ask for, I suppose... it's a good start." He knelt down and grabbed his vest, which he slipped on over his tunic. "With you around I really DO feel less lonely... I feel like I'm seen... like someone understands me."

There was something about his statement that caught Tahra as odd; from her assessment, the butcher held an important role in the village. Granted, he did not get out into the wilderness like the hunters or woodcutters which automatically meant that he wasn't in an 'honored' a role as those who made their way in the wilds, but his was probably one of the most well-respsected professions within the village. As the two remained facing one another for another span of silence, Tahra finally realized what he needed. "I believe that it would be a good idea for you to join in on The Devotional."

Her statement from out of the blue evidently caught him off-guard. "Join you for The Devotional? Why?"

Part of the role of an Urthwyfe meant never having to explain herself. Offering a bemused smirk, she settled for "I believe it would be good for you."

He looked as though he were chewing on his cheek, muzzle moving as he gazed a little to her left, eyes focused on the ground. At length, he finally spoke. "I'll think about it. I've never taken part in one in the past but... I suppose if YOU'RE leading it, the least I could do would be to consider it."

Tahra smiled, closing the distance before placing a hand on either of his shoulders. She went up to her tip-toes to kiss him on one of his furry cheeks. "Good. That's all that would be fair of me to ask. Do think about it."

With that, Tahra took her leave and headed out of Aeolas' home, finally ready to start her day.

* * * * *

The next several days were spent learning about Mott; the village was at least a day's walk from the closest settlements and, as such, it was practically in its own world. Most of her days were spent observing, though a few hours out of each day were in the company of the village elders, who filled in the blanks about their deep relationship with the spirits, their ongoing peaceful coexistence within the forest, and their desire to have Tahra assist them with the Devotion.

When their prior leader of the rite passed he had done so without doing more than a basic training for those who were to take over, which meant that Tahra's first task was to provide patient guidance with the group of four-- two wolves, an Ox, and a Mare. One of them would ultimately take the deceased elder's place but, for her involvement, they were to assist her in any way she requested and, to do that, they had to learn (and relearn) several aspects of the Devotion.

True to form, she spent the days with the elders, moving about town, and instructing her trainees. In the afternoons she'd check in on Shael, who seemed content to stay within the confines of Mott, being fed and cared for by the few villagers who weren't afraid to get too close to a beast; he let her know on multiple occasions that he disliked being treated like a pet less than he disliked the thought of interacting with a spirit while he was out hunting, and she left it at that.

The evenings, though she had a gifted home of her own to stay at while in Mott, Tahra, more often than not spent with Aeolas. He was a warm, kind, lonely man. He was gentle, and tender, and his desire for her knew no bounds. It was good to be desired; it warmed her as much as she warmed his bed, and it was a constant, welcome distraction after the long months in the Western Lands. Tahra was no stranger to lovemaking and she'd had numerous lovers, but there was something refreshing about one who accepted her independence and didn't push for more than she was willing to give.

Her comings and goings to and from Aeolas' home were seen on multiple occasions by any number of villagers but, if they had any thoughts about it, they kept it to themselves. By the second week, a few of them took to waving to her pleasantly as she made the trip half way across the village from the butcher's house to the one that the elders had gifted to her to use during her stay-- nobody objected that she spent less time there than with the butcher while in Mott.

As the time passed, the townsfolk continued to accept her presence there and, while none of them brought up her constant visits to Aeolas to her directly, there were numerous times when she overheard them talking among one another. She realized that none of them had spoken up because none of them objected; most of them seemed to think that the butcher finding someone with whom he could spend his time was good for him. As such, they were happy for him, even if his affections were for a Human Urthwyfe-- they never mentioned that last part... she just chose to read between the lines.

The morning of The Devotion was particularly busy, not because she had a lot more to do, but because the villagers were rushing to prepare for their part: gathering ales and meads, ensuring their robes and cloaks were clean and ready, re-treading or re-stringing their sandals-- anything and everything consciencous practicioners of The Devotion could think of to ensure that it would go smoothly. Tahra, for the most part, continued her daily activities, culminating in just a brief visit to Shael since she would be meeting with the elders early in the afternoon to discuss final planning before the procession left Mott for the forest just before sundown.

The elders and those acolytes selected to be her assistants met in the middle of the village in front of the elder's meeting hall lodge. A table had been set up, complete with drinks and a selection of finger-foods-- more than a meeting but less than a celebration; it would be the only opportunity for them to have anything to eat until they returned late at night from The Devotion. A few members of the village joined them as well; people Tahra recognized as those of high standing. Ayre and her mate Ying were present, as was Bight and his mate Doon.

While that didn't surprise her, what did was the fact that Aeolas, self-described as a shut-in who avoided most public events, also made an appearance. Even though others seemed just as surprised to see him as she, it did not miss her notice that the elders had prepared a seat for him next to hers. Neither Tahra nor Aeolas commented on his placement by her side rather than next to his siblings and she chose to focus on the discussion rather than attempt to discern any possible ulterior motives at hand.

As the discussion of the order of operations for The Devotion concluded for what was probably the twentieth time since Tahara first arrived, those gathered took a short break to pick at the platters in front of them and quench their thirst, the Urthwyfe looked to Aeolas, speaking quietly. "I am surprised to see you here this afternoon."

He offered a tentative smile, his tail swaying behind him through the hole at the base of the chair's backing. "You will be gone soon, and I am a member of the village. What better reasons than to take part in The Devotion?"

She nodded without judgment, taking a sip from a tankard of mead. "And, when The Devotion begins, you'll be standing with your family?"

His ears wilted for a moment, then rose, then fell, their insides reddening slightly. "Seeing as I am no acolyte and know little about spirits, it would be foolish to expect to stand beside YOU, wouldn't it?"

Tahra offered a succint nod. "It would."

It was the end of their discussion on the topic as the final arrangements for The Devotion began. The Elders did a competent job of providing guidance to the villagers, which was perfectly fine for Tahra since her part in the affair was to commune with the Spirits; if the Elders saw to The Folk she could be more effective attending the other party. In all, nearly 40 villagers left Tahra that night on the long trek through the woodlands to the spot appointed as the place for The Devotion.

That location turned out to be beside a wide but shallow lake, beneath the boughs of an enormous willow. The tree had an off-white color to its branches and the small, spade-like leaves were a pale green, reminiscent of cloudy jade. The branches drooped like most willows, cascading down nearly to the ground, creating a curtain around the tree with a small, triangular passage between them perfectly located to allow room for a walking trail.

As Tahra joined the procession moving beneath the canopy of the singular tree she couldn't help but feel as though she were surrounded by cascading walls of green-- the world outside of the branches of the willow had disappeared beyond the leaves; she and the villagers were all that existed in the small, intimate world within the tree's embrace. That was all there was and continued to be until a soft, pale light began to illuminate the area, followed shortly thereafter by a cool lavendar light, and a smooth pink one-- more and more balls of light arose to surround the gathered villagers.

Unlike many of the younger, angrier Spirits she was forced to face in the Western Lands, Tahra could feel immeidately that those surrounding them beneath the willow's canopy were old-- ancient even for spirits. She liked them immediately. So it was that she remained patient, waiting for the entirety of the gathered spirits to make themselves known. Only once they descended to head-height, gathered about the villagers did Tahra know that it was time for The Devotion to begin and, with skilled perfection, she guided the townsfolk and the assigned acolytes through their parts. It went flawlessly.

Tahra knew that, aside from playing the role of the guiding elder, it was the people of Mott who led to the ritual's success; they knew their parts to play and did so with practiced excellence garnered through generations of those who came before them-- she knew that they hadn't really needed her and, if anything, she was there as moral support. Still, Tahra was pleased that she'd had the opportunity to take part in the proceedings. There was something magical about things going well between The Folk and Spirits.

She, however, was able to do something the elder who'd led The Devotion for decades could not: for the first time in at least one generation, Tahra was able to translate for the Spirits, and they had much to say. The Spirits had blessings to bestow, and seemed bemused that they were able to do so and be understood. According to them, The Folk of Mott had been fine neighbors for awhile (and 'awhile' for Spirits was rarely measured in any length shorter than centuries) and, as such, the Spirits' blessings were many-- not the least of which was one for the union between Bight and Doon.

As The Devotion ran to its conclusion, however, most of the Spirits lingered. The villagers, having been used to waiting for all of the lights to fade, remained where they were, oblivious to the reasons their incorporeal neighbors continued to attend them. Only Tahra knew their purpose for staying was her. The Spirits, in their way, were intrigued and pleased that a mortal was able to converse with them-- it was something they had not witnessed in quite some time (over a thousand years, by Tahra's estimate considering the timeline for a Spirit's 'quite some time'). They were moreso interested in her because she was a Human.

Courteously, Tahra did not correct them, rather, she pointed out that she considered herself an Urthwyfe first and a Human second; that information gained another twinkling chorus of what was the equivalent of Spirit laughter. The eldest of the Spirits, which was a trait that Tahra was able to feel innately, praised her, acknowledging that she did a fine job as the leader of The Devotion and as their translator. In accordance to pacts older than the trees, it wished to see her rewarded for her service that night as an Urthwyfe.

It was a test-- she knew it well enough. Tahra was already being paid by the people of Moot and, besides, Spirit rewards were never to be accepted for one's own benefit. Thinking for just a moment on what to do, she glanced around at the villagers, her gaze ultimately coming to rest on the warm brown eyes of a certain butcher who was looking at her with such reverence she could barely stand it. An idea came to mind and she had but to convey the most basic information to the eldest Spirit and, no sooner had she done so that the eldest Spirit approved... and had a suggestion to add.

Tahra smiled when she came to understand its proposal. It was perfect.

* * * * *

Aeolas approached the table where Tahra sat in his home with a wooden bowl in either paw. "It's late, so I reheated the stew from last night and added some fresh tubers, carrots, and barley. I hope you don't mind."

She accepted one of them as he joined her at the table. Tahra rarely found herself content in any one area but, after almost two weeks, the butcher's home had started to feel comfortable; it was nice. They were each several spoonfuls into the stew before she spoke up, giving words to what she knew was likely on his mind as well. "This is my last night here, Aeolas... when the sun rises, I'll be leaving."

He picked out a piece of meat from the stew with his spoon and put it into his muzzle, chewing on it slowly and swallowing, taking several seconds in formulating his response. "Yes, Tahra. I know."

It had taken several days before he'd become willing to use her name more freely and, once he had, it was used in almost every sentence, as if he couldn't get enough of the feel of it crossing his tongue. She smiled faintly at that, but kept her focus on him. "And you understand that I will not be staying?"

He nodded, visibly swallowing against what must have been a tightness in his throat. "Yes, Tahra... but... I am hoping that we can make the most of tonight."

His statement, one of uplifting optimism was not accompanied by his usual tentative tail wag; she could tell that her pending absence was affecting him. Although it hurt her to realize it, she also knew it was inevitable. She'd developed a fondness for him, but that was the most that she could possibly offer. "I will be leaving in the morning, yes... and tonight will be mine, not yours. I will need to be rested for tomorrow."

His tail drooped and ears pulled back. He opened his muzzle, an objection so strongly on his lips that a word managed to excape before he quieted it. "But--" The butcher took a deep breath, letting it out before his features returned to neutral, all except for his eyes, which gazed down at his stew. "I see... of course, Tahra."

Setting down her spoon, Tahra stood, holding out her hand. "Walk with me."

The Wolf sat there for a few seconds before reaching out with his paw. She hauled him to his feet. "Where? For what?"

She smiled in response, moving to the small sitting area he had in the corner, and, turning, Tahra pushed him down into his chair. He opened his muzzle to speak, but she shushed him. "You've been a great host to me, Aeolas, and I have a present for you."

The butcher cocked his head to the side. "A present? I... I don't need--"

It took just four words spoken with the severity and authority of her role as an Urthwyfe to silence him. "You will receive it."

He practically yelped, "Yes, Urthwyfe!"

Still holding his paw, she plucked a small spirit mote from the air where it'd been following her, and she lowered it and her finger to his paw pad. She inscribed a simple, invisible rune into his palm. "Now... cover your eyes with this paw."

Aeolas did as he was ordered and she expressed an incantation in the langauge of the Spirits, letting the will of the ancients be done; it would be the only way to give him the gift that she and the Eldest Spirit had agreed upon. Once her incantation was complete, she held out a hand, beckoning toward the spirit dog that remained faithfully by the chair. "Now remove your paw, Aeolas."

It was her connection to the Spirits that allowed her to see the essence of Aeolas' long-dead dog but she watched his expression for the moment he noticed that he was able to see her as well. He sprang forth from his chair, ears up, eyes wide, letting out an exclamation that was no real word. Fighting back a laugh, Tahra rested a hand on his shoudlers. "This is my gift... I told you she was still here."

His voice faltered. "It... she... is-- it is her!"

Tahra slowly eased him back down into his armchair. "I told you that she was here, waiting patiently. You were her everything, and still are, Aeolas. Peat remains here by your side rather then returning to the animal realm of rest."

Rather than responding, Aeolas began blinking rapidly, his eyes glimmering with unshed tears. His muzzle continued to move as if trying to form words, but nothing came out. She smiled gently, leaning over him to give his head a hug. "She is here with you always, but the sight you've been gifted will be gone with the dawn. This night is not for us, my friend... it is for the two of you."

The fur on his cheeks began to dampen as he finally manged to push some words out. "Th.... thank you... U-Urth...wyfe."

Leaning over him, she touched her forhead to his. "You are most welcome, Dear Aeolas. This was why I could not take you with. Peat is here. For you. You are her everything. This IS where you belong. Respect that. Cherish that. She is forestalling her 'hereafter' just for you, and I will not see you separated from her."

She left the butcher in his home, with Peat, returning to the hut that had been lent to her. She would use it for that night and, by morning, like Aeolas' ability to see of his beloved dog, she would be gone.