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[Paytience]

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Compassion's event had ended hours ago. She'd waited until all parties had left the area before kneeling down at the grave hidden in the back of camp. Her hands locked in silence she thought of all the things she wanted to say to her biological Father. There were many. And many many questions that would never be answered. Not one of them had any bearing on the situation now. In a curse of futile, weak female emotion, she raised herself up off the dirt and headed for Arahim's.

The quiet hit her first. The front gate squeaked against the silence and a tiny stab impaled itself in her heart. Cracking open the front door she heard no squeal of her nephew. No footsteps. Just emptiness. The hole that had been there all her life, the one that Arahim and Christopher had filled lay empty and bleeding again. And even though she knew better than to think it she couldn't help but wonder if Kesla was right.

- - - - - -
She'd lingered for an hour there, curled up in his chair with her head against the velvet cushion. Old walls began to rebuild themselves brick by brick. She knew she couldn't stay there any longer tonight. Not without going back to who she was before they came into her life, who she was before she had known she was a Gypsy.

Ducking in to the Inn in Trinsic, who luckily for her stayed open all hours, she grabbed a late meal for two and flipped open her runebook. Three quarters of a bowl of corn, a bowl of porato's, 2 loaves of bread and 4 bottles of ale later she sat across from Tor on the hard wooden floor of the third level of his home. Her feminine form was all but drowning in his greyish-blue tunic. So much so that only half of her thighs were visible as it came to rest in a pool of fabric around her.

Fork stuck in the potato bowl she stopped with her hand still on the tip of it. Her voice lowering an octive she glanced over without really meeting his eyes. “There's a Gypsy thing. I think we should do it.” She raised her gaze enough to catch him with a mouthful, wiping his hands on a cloth. His chest bare from where he had literally given her the shirt off his back flickered with the candlelight dancing across his skin.

Tilting the ale bottle back he took a swig. “That narrows it down. They have a lot of rituals.”

She nodded in silent agreement. Even if he was poking at her, he was also right. And so the witty remark at the end of her tongue lay still.

“I mean the arcane circle.”

He raised a brow at that clearly not knowing the ritual she spoke of. “It's a joining of souls.”

“What does that mean exactly?” His voice as always remained calm but she'd peaked his interest.

“It means we see bits of each other that normally don't get shown. Thoughts, feelings..” She trailed off then. It wasn't really easy to tell someone that you would see the main core of who and what they were. Although from the frown that now creased his brow and curled his moustache even more than normal, he seemed to have guessed it.

[Paytience]

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His expression changed then from wariness to out and out refusal as he got up from his position on the floor.

“No.” It was simple and final. Paytience never did well with final. And even worse with no's

“What do you mean no?” She pushed herself up and stood in front of him.

“Exactly what I said. No.”

“Without discussing it?”

"That last batch of venom isn't going to be enough." He bit the words out and though there wasn't a lot of heat within the tone, she felt it burn her just the same. Without another word he walked past her and into the garden. Stoney silence replaced the reverie that existed only moments earlier.

"You'll share your bed but not your heart with me." She said it just loud enough for him to clearly hear her before she stalked down the stairs and left the house leaving him to stare at the flowers alone.