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Basalt, his First year

Eighth in a series of character-building vignettes following a bunch of characters through their time at Addergoole & beyond.

Basalt shows up in Addergoole: Year 9 as Ahouva’s rescuer-slash-Keeper; Thorburn shows up as Ceinwen’s Keeper, and Brydan and Indigo have passing mention through the series.


“Oh, Bry, he’s something else.”

Basalt hadn’t been aware he’d dazed out until the voice brought him back into consciousness. Being around Brydan seemed to do that to him, especially in the last week. Since the dance. Since he’d kissed her, and told her she was an angel and…

…the rest was a little fuzzy. Basalt had drunk more than he ought to, but the booze had been flowing freely, and he’d always been able to hold his liquor before that.

He blinked up at Brydan. He hadn’t been told to move yet, but he didn’t really mind. Kneeling with his head on her lap was one of the more comfortable ways he could think of to pass the afternoon.

She was frowning, however, which wasn’t as good. “Indigo. I don’t recall inviting you in.”

“You gave me a blanket invitation, remember? And I wanted to show off mine, but you’ve beaten me to it, as usual.”

Even where he was, Basalt could hear the growl from the doorway. His shoulders tensed. He didn’t mind being in Brydan’s lap, but it was going to be hard to defend her if he was stuck here.

She patted his shoulder. “It’s all right, sweetie. You can move.”

He didn’t want to, not really. But he did, standing, stretching, and getting into a nice bodyguard position looming just behind Brydan’s left shoulder.

He didn’t want to look at the other people in the room, either, but he did. There was something about the woman’s voice that made what he and Brydan were doing sound dirty somehow, instead of just right and proper. And the growl…

Yeah, he’d been afraid of that. The woman was the blonde-and-sometimes-blue girl, Indigo, one of Brydan’s friends and in the same Mentorship as Brydan. The other… yeah. Basalt met Thorburn’s eyes and shrugged.

The other guy showed all his teeth, in something that was definitely not a smile. Basalt just shrugged again. It could get embarrassing, sure. But if Brydan was anything like Indigo…

“He’s pretty awesome, isn’t he?” Brydan patted Basalt’s shoulder.

He straightened up a little bit and smiled at her. “So are you, miss.”

Basalt: His First Year
Nyyrikki: Her First Year
Orliath: Her Second Year
Cynara: Her Second Year

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/573312.html. You can comment here or there.

Rozen: His First Year

Seventh in a series of character-building vignettes following a bunch of characters through their time at Addergoole & beyond.

If you’ve read any Addergoole at all, Rozen should be familiar to you.


Addergoole, Year 2
The school was in the middle of freaking nowhere. It was in the middle of nowhere, and there were less than 40 students, over half of whom had already been here a year. It was in the middle of nowhere, there were less than 40 students, and the older ones all acted like there was some sort of massive joke going on. And it was a four-year sentence. Rozen was ready to punch someone.

He already had punched one guy – half of a pair, creepy rednecks with a “banjos” vibe going on and the same smug attitude as the rest of the upperclassmen. He’d broken the bastard’s nose, and the PE teacher had shown up about three seconds later.

Luke might have been a head shorter than Rozen, but he had “don’t fuck with the Marines” written all over him. Rozen had stepped back, shown his hands clearly, and waited for the officer to ask unpleasant questions. The two shits he’d been fighting had laughed and run off.

That’s how he’d learned their names – Meshach and Shadrach – and learned that there were times when the authorities here would just not care if you broke someone’s face. The school was still in the middle of nowhere, but it had a few advantages.

“Well, hello.” A long-fingered hand landed on Rozen’s bicep, and her turned to look the owner in the face, ready to punch again. He’d already had to explain to two predatory women that he was nobody’s dog, thank you very much, nobody’s boy, and he wouldn’t come when called. This one…

…Could look him in the eye, which was impressive. Most of the time he was looking at the top of women’s heads. She was wearing heels – he checked – but that still meant she was nearly six foot tall in her own right.

Her lips were red. Her hair was black. Her smile was hungry. “I’ve heard about you already. That’s impressive; it’s only the second week of school.”

“If you’ve heard of me, you know I don’t bow to anyone.” His voice was coming out a little thickly. He was human (or whatever) and she was, he had to admit, gorgeous even in a school full of pretty girls.

“I know. And that’s all right, I don’t have any interest in boys that do. But would you be interested, maybe, in laying down for a while?”

“This school moves fast.” Which wasn’t to say he wasn’t interested.

“The school moves the way it moves. I, on the other hand, move the way I want to. Right now, that would be under you. She offered him a hand. “I’m Dita, by the way.”

“Rozen.” He shook her hand. This school had a couple advantages, he supposed.

Basalt: His First Year
Nyyrikki: Her First Year
Orliath: Her Second Year
Cynara: Her Second Year

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/573042.html. You can comment here or there.

NaNoWriMo and Addergoole

Okay, I did the math. If I keep the books at the planned wordcount, one Book of Addergoole: Original Series is about 25000 words.

I’m still going to write a bit of bonus content, so I probably won’t get all the way through TWO books of Addergoole during Nano, but I’ll get quite a way towards that goal.

And speaking of bonus material:

http://www.addergoole.com/TableofContents.html

Are there Question-answers or Bonus stories you’d like to see updated/rewritten? Are there bonus stories I never wrote that you’d like to see?

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/572043.html. You can comment here or there.

A New Year, a new …who?

To [personal profile] rendia‘s prompt.. Shang is a Year9 Character (Short version: he doesn’t believe in magic and doesn’t believe he’s fae.)

Monday after Hell Night, Year 10 of the Addergoole School.

“You know what you have to do.”

“Damaris, this is ridiculous. And why are you so angry at me?”

“…you know, forget it. I’ll get over being angry soon enough. Look. You know what you’ve got to do.”

“It’s still ridiculous.” They’d gone around that loop enough times that it ought to be the chorus of a song. You know what you have to do/but it’s ridiculous and I don’t want to./You’re acting like a fool/ But wasn’t I yours, your fool?

Damaris huffed. “For once, just listen to me, would you?”

“I’m trying.” He could tell her breath was uneven and her pulse was racing. She was clearly upset and getting more so. Shang tried for a more placating tone. “Damaris, if this is what you want me to do, I’ll go along with it.”

“Even the collar?”

“Even the collar. I think it’s…” He stopped himself. “Because I said something to keep Curry and Basalt off of her?”

“Because you walked into Curry and Basalt’s trap. Or walked her into it, whatever. Yes. It’s how the school works, Shang.”

I liked the part where the school worked me in your arms. Not this part where I have to move a stranger in with me. “All right.” Because it made her happy.

~
That Friday

“Don’t touch those, geez, stop it.”

“But I need…” Leithe lifted her hands off the stack of CDs as if they’d burned her.

“Shut up, okay?” Shang glowered. He’d liked Leithe. She was normal, easy to talk to, the sort of girl he would have been interested in, before Addergoole. She was generally just a nice person.

And he was being a heel to her. Because she persisted on trying to cuddle up to him, and to act like she was his girlfriend.

She wasn’t his girlfriend. Damaris was his girlfriend. Even if she’d “released him from his promise.” Even if she’d taken the collar off. Even if she barely spoke to Shang anymore.

“I’m just trying to pick up. You told me I could pick up.”

Had he? He thought he’d said something like that. “Don’t. There’s CDs everywhere.”

“I could organize them.”

“No! God, no, they’re already organized!” He glared at her. “Why do you keep on doing that?”

“I’m just trying to make you happy.”

“Don’t! Don’t try to make me happy, don’t try to please me, don’t guess what you think I want. Just… go jump in a pond or something. Give me some space.”

She fled the room, already sobbing. Shang put his face in his hands. He was being an asshole. He hated being a jerk. But everything had gone wrong the minute he’d said she was his, and he just didn’t know how to make things right.

He tidied the room. He reorganized the stacks of CDs so she could actually get into the dresser where her clothes were stored. He washed the dishes, and sorted his clothes so she had more room. He was just beginning to wonder if he was supposed to go after her when someone pounded on his door.

Not Agra, please, not Damaris. He opened the door.

His Mentor was holding a soaking-wet Leithe, holding her so she couldn’t run away, and she was definitely trying to. “You and I,” Luke’s voice was a snarl, “need to have a talk about orders.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/570239.html. You can comment here or there.

Second Verse, Same as the first (help Wanted, Outlining)

I am going to, for nano, rewrite Addergoole Book One.

Yeah. That. Re-write, from scratch, keeping just the framework.

I want to have a coherent outline going in.

How you can help: Noteworthy moments from the original that you would like to hold on to, fond moments, anything you think should go into the outline.

Thanks!

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/568834.html. You can comment here or there.

Uncle, a story of the fae apoc for the What I Want Call

For [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s donation and prompt.

“Bobby. Dolores. Jorge. Ryuu. Come here.“ Bruce stood on his porch and looked out at the yard. “Cherry. Kikyo. What part of here don’t you understand?”

“Sorry, Uncle Bruce!” The ragged chorus preceded the children to the porch. Bruce counted noses: One, two, three, four, five. “Where’s Kikyo?”

“She was playing with the kittens.” Dolores and Kikyo were cousin-twins, born within a day of each other from two of Bruce’s sisters. They were generally inseparable.

“Then go get her. Whatever she’s doing.” Kittens wasn’t something that would generally keep the kids from lunch. “Bobby, go with your sister.”

“But…”

“Go. If anything’s weird, scream.” They knew that; that was drill. But Bruce still repeated it every chance he got. “Jorge, Ryuu, Cherry, come on in and wash up. Your mothers will be…”

A scream cut him off, one scream, two screams. Two. Not three. “Ryuu. Drill two. NOW.” Bruce was running before he finished the sentence, but he muttered a quick Working, enough to see that his nephew was doing as he’d said, gathering the younger children and getting them into the center room.

The barn was too far away. The defenses covered the barn too, of course, but a barn was not the most secure structure on which to hang that sort of thing. There were always holes. And they were supposed to be safe out here, out in the middle of nowhere…

The kids were still screaming. Two screams, still, two voices, not three. Bruce loaded up every attack spell he could spit out under his breath and woke up the farm’s overall defenses. Why wasn’t Kikyo screaming? Why wasn’t she making any noise?

He didn’t waste breath on swearing, but he did plenty of cursing in the silence of his mind. He should have gone himself, damnit. He should have known something was wrong with Kikyo didn’t show right away. He should have had the defenses up all the time.

The defenses themselves attracted attention; that was why they were mostly engage-in-crisis things. But he could have, if he’d spent enough time on it, come up with something passive that kept people away. He could have come up with a better alarm system. He could have…

In the barn, his oldest nephew was holding off an intruder with a pitchfork. The intruder was… was something, Bruce could tell that much. Humanoid, naked, with canted animal ears and a snakelike pattern over its skin. It was crouched over Kikyo, who was wrapped around her kittens.

Most of her kittens. A bloody tail on the ground suggested there was one less cat around than there had been. “Behind you, Bobby. Steady. Steady.” The boy was only ten. But he was a strong kid, and he took his responsibilities seriously. Bruce grabbed a spear off the wall and began circling.
The intruder was probably-male, although the long, matted hair made it hard to tell. It covered almost everything. “You need to let my niece go and leave. You need to leave now, alone, and never return.”

Level voice was the key. Level voice, strong voice. The creature tracked his movements but said nothing.

“Back away from the girl and leave.”

“Uncle Bruce?” Kikyo’s voice was weak but firm. “Uncle Bruce, he hurt Toby. I forgot to scream, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Kiya. Get away from him now, okay?”

“But my kittens. I can’t leave my kittens here.”

Screw the kittens. “Kiya, I’ll do my best to protect the kittens, but I promised your mother I’d take care of you. This is not taking care of you.”

“He’s scared, Uncle Bruce.” Dolores had a knack for not being seen. Now she was standing right next to Bruce, between him and her brother. “He’s like the raccoon the other week. He doesn’t know what’s going on.”

Bruce brought his attention back to the creature’s eyes. There was no comprehension there, none, just fear and worry.

“Damnit.”

“Uncle Bruce?”

“We cannot bring home a feral Ellehemaei.”

“But the raccoon…”

“This one will do a lot more than tip over the garbage. He’s already … hurt… a kitten. And he hurt Kikyo.”

“I’m not hurt, Uncle Bruce.” Kikyo peeked up at him over the kittens. “He didn’t hurt me. Just Toby, because Toby bit him.”

“See?” Before he could stop her – before it would have occurred to her that she’d do such a thing – Dolores had wrapped her arms around the creature’s neck. “We can keep him, right?”

No Keep, damnit, no… Bruce moved very slowly towards the creature. The creature, in return, held up both hands. Its eyes were on Bruce, not on the girl hanging from its neck. “Kikyo, take the kittens and go behind Bobby. Now.”

“Come on, Kiya.” Bobby reached out his hands, responding to the tone in Bruce’s voice. “Over here. Hand me the funny striped one. And the pink one.”

“He’s not pink.” When she stood up, Bruce could see the angry red marks on her face and arm. The thing had pushed her aside, then, or she’d tripped. No claw marks, and everything seemed to be working properly.

That was longer than he wanted to look away. Bruce looked over, to see the creature was tracking Kikyo’s movements as well.

“Come on, Uncle Bruce. We can’t just throw him away. Can we keep him?”

Keep again. Bruce sighed. “Deborah, it’s not an animal. It’s a person, a feral Ellehemaei. It could do a lot of damage. And, what’s more, you can’t put people in cages the way we did with the raccoon.”

“Keep.” The creature’s voice was thin and reedy, unused-sounding. It knelt, carefully, one hand hovering near Deborah. Again, its eyes were on Bruce. “Keba oronto apestla tauon. Sa’…?”

Bruce sighed. Those words couldn’t easily be denied. I am under your Name. Sir…? “Uncle Bear.” His sisters hadn’t exactly Named him, but they’d certainly helped. “You are under my name, jae’…”

The creature shrugged. The children watched, until Kikyo offered, solemnly, “Bjorn.”

“You are under my name, jae’Bjorn. Come with me.” And here was hoping the thing knew more than those words, or this was going to be difficult.

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Where’d That Come From

To eseme‘s prompt

There were things Vina had been expecting from school. Lots of things – tough classes, having to make friends again, being isolated in the middle of nowhere.

This was not in the book.

She looked – he looked – what did you even do with that? Vina – if the name could even still fit – looked under the sheets again. Then she-he-whatever let the sheets drop and facepalmed.

Leg pain had woken Vina up several times in the night, but Vina had a lanky body that had never stopped growing, and pain in the night was nothing new. This morning… this morning the leg pain might be explained (the legs were sticking out of the bottom of the bed now) but everything else was just more confusing.

For one, Vina was pretty sure there hadn’t been a penis there when she -um, no, it had been she then – went to bed. And there definitely was one now. There had definitely been breasts – not big ones or anything, but they’d been there – and now there was a flat chest with a little bit of muscle.

“Ummm…” Even the voice was wrong. Vina pulled … vina’self out of bed and stared at a mirror, hoping that it would reveal something other than… Vina’s own eyes had.

No. Other than that Vina was taller than any girl had any right to be – tall enough that sh… Vina had to duck to look in the mirror properly… the body looking back at her was still a male body.

Vina sat down on the floor and pulled knees up to a chest that was far too bony. “I don’t…” Lips closed on a voice that was wrong, and Vina pushed aside a thought, a sudden worry if tears weren’t boy-like. I’m not a boy. Vina repeated the thought over and over again, wishing it would do some good. I don’t know how to be a boy.

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/566011.html. You can comment here or there.

Paint it Blue

to an [personal profile] anke’s prompt. thanks to @theladyisugly, Sky, and @AlphaRaposa for helping me create Clarisse.

The first thing Clarisse Martin did when she came to school was cut her hair short and dye it blue.

The upperclassmen found this a little bit amusing – after all, changing yourself when the school Changes you so much, so quickly, seemed a little overkill – but the teachers said nothing, and none of the other students actually said anything to her about it.

Clarisse found the lack of commentary strange, but, since she hadn’t done it for them, was unworried by it. She found the few giggles from older students completely understandable, and ignored them.

When the Reveal on the first Friday of classes showed Clarisse and the rest of the Tenth Cohort some of what they’d gotten into, Clarrise walked slowly to the doctor’s office, running her fingers through her hair. It explained a lot – but she liked her hair blue.

Her Change knocked her off her feet only literally, fusing her legs together from the ankle down into a sort of tail. “I believe there is more coming,” Dr. Caitrin theorized. “In the meantime, getting around might be a little tricky. We’ll work something out.”

It was the kind of situation that could get you down. It was the kind of situation where being stared at wasn’t so much a matter of why as which of the myriad of reasons are you noticing? Clarisse tried to keep her chin up and a smile on her face. It wasn’t about them, she reminded herself. This was her thing to deal with.

When the man with the terrifying blue eyes managed to convince her to be his – it was Hell Night, her wheelchair had gotten thrown across the hall, and he had a voice like a heavenly melody – she accepted the collar, the oro’ at the end of her name, and the rules without argument. They weren’t, in the end, about her; like a school uniform, they hung on her like accessories.

But when, angry after a bad day at school and frustrated over her wheelchair and her slow-as-molasses change, he began shouting at hr, Clarisse shook her head and met her Keeper’s eyes.

“You’re a no-good, stupid bitch…”

“No.”

“You don’t get to tell me no.

“You get to tell me what to do.” She touched the collar around her neck with three fingers. “You don’t get to tell me who I am.”

He stared, stunned into speechlessness.

Clarisse kept talking. “You get to decide where I go. What I say. What I wear, if you’re so inclined. You don’t get to decide who I am.”

He said nothing, but touched her hair – still short, still blue, almost the same color as his eyes – with three fingers. His other hand touched the place where her ankles had fused together.

He didn’t have a hand to touch her self with.

Next: http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/1267957.html

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Had to be Done

This is [personal profile] rix_scaedu‘s commissioned continuation to What was Right, which was a continuation of Bowen’s Summer, Continued, which was a continuation of July Linkback Story. It takes place between Years 5 & 6 of the Addergoole School


…Bowen knocked anyway. Some things, you really didn’t have any choice about.

Knocked, and then, when she opened the door, knelt on one knee. “Kailani cy’Regine, I owe you a debt of honor.” The words were awkward, but they were right. “I owe you deeply, for the good you did me. I humbly request that you tell me what I can do to repay this.”

He really didn’t expect her to start crying.

Crying girls were not something Bowen had a lot of experience with. From the looks of the rest of his cy’ree, neither did they.

He bowed again, a little lower, and then looked up at her. “What…?”

“Kai, honey, what’s wrong?” Conrad appeared behind Kailani in the doorway of their cottage. “…Oh.” His cold expression took in all four of the cy’Fridmar on the porch. “It’s summer time, guys, don’t you have a hobby?”

“No, no, it’s okay.” Kailani patted Conrad’s arm a few times. Bowen noticed the flummoxed look on Conrad’s face before he noticed that the guy was still wearing a collar. “They’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Kai. You’re crying. You don’t cry.”

“He said… he said…”

“I said thank you.” Crying girl. Okay. Bowen could deal with this, really. “Well, I said that I owed her, but ‘thank you’ was part of that.”

“Took you long enough.” Conrad’s glare was not being at all mitigated.

“Conrad.” Kai patted his arm again. “It’s okay.”

“You weren’t expecting anything, were you?” Phelen had slurked up behind Bowen while he watched this so-awkward interchange.

Kai shook her head. “No. Everyone…” She glanced at Conrad and fell silent.

Phelen filled in the blanks. “Addergoole is full of takers. You broke the script, and that made many people angry.”

Kailani nodded. Conrad’s frown slowly faded. “She played with the big dogs.”

“We know.” Rozen’s rumble of a voice was almost a laugh. “We were there.”

Bowen watched Kailani look over his head at Rozen and Baram. “I remember.” There was something in her voice, and then it was gone when she looked at Bowen. “You look… you look good.” She somehow made that a question.

Conrad looked back at Bowen, sharply now. “You do. Happy, and you’ve got your color back.”

Bowen shrugged. “Lots of time outside. Nice to see the sun.” He didn’t realize he was smiling until he felt the way “sun” tasted on his lips.

Kailani smiled, too. “It is. It’s hard to go back inside at the end of the day.” She tilted her face upwards for a moment, eyes closed.

When the moment had stretched from reasonable to a little-too-long, Conrad coughed. Kai looked back at Bowen. “What brings you to Addergoole in the middle of the summer, then?”

“Uh.” He glanced back at his cy’ree. “Rozen brought me.”

“Oh. Oh?”

“I brought him to say thank you. Then we’re going to take a road trip.” Rozen was speaking a little more slowly, Bowen noticed, and enunciating carefully. Kai wasn’t stupid – she was supposed to be the smartest person in their Cohort.

“Oh.” Right now, she looked like she needed smaller words. “Well, have fun.”

Phelen laughed. “Yeah.” Yeah? “Yes, Kailani, it was that big of a deal. You faced down Agatha to get Bowen out of a bad situation.”

“He repaid the favor.”

“He repaid the favor, but not the bravery.” Phelen bowed. “Now he’s repaying it all.”

“That.” Bowen nodded. “You did a bigger thing than I did.”

Kailani made an expression that was probably a smile. “Somebody had to.”

“And you did it.”

This entry was originally posted at http://aldersprig.dreamwidth.org/564874.html. You can comment here or there.

A Welcome of Sorts

After Carrying, which is after Any Port

No tour of Baram’s house was complete without seeing three things: the bolt-hole in the basement, the hawthorn trees around three sides of the property, and a pile of children climbing up the furniture to greet you.

Pocket-Claws-Neska took in the bolt-hole with wide eyes and a small smile, especially when she saw the preparations the children had helped with. Baram wasn’t sure child-sized riot shields were really adorable, but the kids liked them, and so did this small person.

She took in the hawthorn trees about the same way. “So, this Briar-Rose, she really is like you and the Spear.”

Not, Baram noted, anything about him. She looked in fear at Via, not at him.

“Briar-Rose is like us. Maybe a little harder, maybe a little softer, but like us.” Viatrix shrugged. “If you last long enough, you’ll meet her. She’s off right now.”

“Last long enough.” The girl shook her head. “You sound like you think I’m afraid of a little hard work.”

“Well, many people are. And it’s crowded conditions and hard work and a lot of people think that’s just too much.”

“You’ll keep my kids safe. I don’t see how anything could be too much in that case.”

“Like her.” Baram rumbled it. “Like her, Viatrix.”

“I like her too, Boss. Okay, Pocket-Claws, you’ve got the first vote of approval. The second one’s the hard one.”

“Second one?” She was still looking at the trees, and at the back yard. “An addition shouldn’t be too hard…”

“You’re good with those words, then?” Via actually cracked a smile at that. “Good. None of us are, and the last things-Worker didn’t stay long enough to do much at all.”

“As long as someone else can excavate the foundation…”

“I can.” Baram nodded. “Easy.” It was like caves, and Baram liked caves.

“Ah, here comes the welcoming party.” Via’s voice had the pre-combat sound to it. Baram noticed how Pocket-Claws-Neska pulled her hands out of her pockets – ha – and shifted her stance, legs spreading a bit, center of gravity dropping.

And then the kids were everywhere. “Are you new? Are you staying? Are you magical? You’ve got to be okay, Dad’s smiling. Are you from the school? How come we’ve never seen you before? Where are your kids?” The questions bounced around from all of the kids, but they seemed as if asked with one voice while the children climbed up Baram, Via, and Pocket-Claws-Neska.

She’d handled the bolt-hole and the hawthorn. But, buried in children, the short woman froze.

Baram watched her carefully. Via, moving as if she wasn’t weighed down with offspring, shifted behind the visitor. This had gone badly before – not usually after they’d handled the defenses, but sometime.

The woman took a breath. She carefully lifted a child off of her hip and placed it on the ground, and then another. Baram watched the way she moved her hands, compensating for a sudden twitchiness.

“Hello.” Her voice was very quiet. The children stilled to listen.

“Hello.” Gerulf was their designated spokesperson when things were being serious. He was one of the oldest, after all, and he had the best voice.

“I may be moving in here.”

“People do that.” He patted a smaller child before she could speak up, and shifted another child off of Pocket-Claws-Neska’s leg. “You don’t like kids?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“We’re not stupid… ma’am. You don’t like kids touching you.”

The small woman shook her head. She sat down – already the height of some of the bigger kids, this brought her down to all the kids’ level.

Gerulf paused a moment, and then sat. Baram hid a smile with a cough. The boy was smart.

“It’s not kids touching me I don’t like. I have two kids of my own, of course…”

“Everybody does. At least two.” Gerulf shrugged. “Not here yet? ‘Sides, having kids doesn’t mean you like kids. Lots of people don’t like kids. Like Sergio’s mom.”

“Hey.” Sergio’s complaint was faint. Baram patted the kid on the head – Gerulf was right. There was a reason the kid was still here and the mum wasn’t.

“I like kids. I get along okay with most kids, at least.” Pocket-Claws-Neska looked around the group. “I just don’t really like being touched at all, by kids or by taller people… heck, some of you are taller than me.”

Gerulf looked around at the other kids. After a minute, he nodded. “The little ones won’t get it.” It sounded like a warning. “But the older kids understand.”

Baram wasn’t watching the kids. Neither was Via; Baram was splitting his attention between Via and Pocket-Claws-Neska. Viatrix’s eyes were firmly on their newest visitor.

And that visitor’s eyes were on the children. Her throat worked a few times. Swallowing? Gulping. “You… just like that?”

“We’re not stupid.” The boy’s voice had a little impatience in it this time. “Sometimes people don’t like being touched. Or shouted at sometimes, or they don’t like strawberries. It’s not rocket science.”

The girl made a sound like a stifled sob. “Not rockest science.”

“It’s not.” Now Gerulf didn’t sound so sure. “Right, dad?”

Baram turned his attention to the boy. Not his son by blood, but his son nonetheless. “Right.” He nodded. “Hard for lots of people to get, but not rockets.”

“See? Oh. Is this one of those things where grownups are dumb all the time?”

Baram barked out a laugh. It was quiet enough that he could hear the little noise the new girl made as well. He thought it was probably a laugh.

“Yeah. Yeah, this is one of those things.” She held out a hand, now, to Gerulf. “My name is Neska. Your… Viatrix says that I can stay here for a while, with my kids.”

“Aunt Via.” Gerulf shook her hand. “I’m Gerulf sh’Jaelie. Welcome to not-a-safe-house.”

And now, they all laughed: Neska, Baram, Via, and the children.

“That’s quite a name.”

“It’s better than ‘dad’s cave.'” Gerulf sounded pleased with himself.

“It’s a good name.” Baram tousled the boy’s hair. “It’s a good thing.” And they still weren’t, really, a safe house.

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