Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

The thing that she really didn't understand about men, Faith had decided, was just how changeable they were and none more than her man. Arm in arm with Padraig as they walked through the cold night she pulled herself against him and glanced up at him with a smile. This was nice. This was really nice. Yet, just yesterday, she had attempted every bit of seduction she had on him and nothing. Not a thing. It was like he hadn't even noticed and his plans for the coming campaign? We'll keep each other warm. Marvellous. She'd seen the frown on his face when he'd caught a glimpse of her shoulder, seeing the scars on her back. That wasn't good, and she'd known it, because things didn't get better the more of her he saw. So maybe the scars had put him off. Yet he'd said that brands didn't bother him. Then there was the good morning kiss they shared. Yesterday, he'd responded to her in a way that was unusual to say the least. That was good but then? He'd looked surprised. Like he was shocked at himself or something. This morning they'd reverted to a chaste peck. She bordered on despair.

Faith could only come to the conclusion that he just didn't know quite what he wanted. That was fine, he'd been on his own a long time and she wasn't about pressure. She was happy to give him the time and space he needed. It was beautiful evening and they were walking together in the crisp cold, arm in arm and quite content. As soon as she'd gotten home, he'd said that he thought it might be nice to go for a walk this evening, the two of them. She'd been more than happy to accept that as a really nice idea and had told him so. She realised, with a slight moment of surprise, that he'd led them to the park in the city where she had first met Malcolm. How strange, that so many adventures started here, she thought with a smile and she pulled her arm out of his and slipped it around his back, pulling herself as close to him as she could "Immortals, but it's cold, isn't it?"

If it was cold here, it would be colder when they left and Faith knew that there was something that she needed to talk to him about, something that she needed to say. But the young woman had not spoken about it to anyone; not to Tristan, not Lady Elyna or Malcolm. It wasn't that she didn't trust them it was just, it was so very personal. But here, in the dark night with the grass crunching under their feet and their breaths misting in front of them, she felt the closeness of the Immortal she so adored, and she knew that it was time, now. Because she really didn't understand this man who held on to her so tightly, whose arm she felt around her, pulling her to him as though he couldn't let her go. She didn't understand him and she was confounded by him. But there was one thing that was absolutely certain to her, and more so each trial that passed.

She stopped walking, there in the park and she looked up at him. There were other people around, but not many and not nearby. It didn't matter to her anyhow. She stepped to in front of him, pulling herself against him and wrapping her arms around his waist as she looked up at him.

"I love you. I know I haven't told you that properly, just hidden it within the suggestion that we left the dishes till the morning. But I do. Only you, for me." She hadn't really expected to lead with that, but there it was. "But there are things about me you don't know and I need to tell you before we leave. Can we sit by that tree and talk?" Somehow, out here, under the stars and surrounded by the natural order, it was easier.

She hoped.

"But that only works if heat moves up, surely? So it must be lighter than actual air. Like water with bubbles in it because it's hot? So heat changes air like it changes water?" It was a source of genuine fascination for her and she loved that they could talk about these things. Even the stars were a phenomena worth questioning for him and it was so like her and her way of being that it was a delight, for all that her face had a frown of concentration on it "And the clouds must be.. heavier? Or colder, I suppose? I'm sorry, those are probably stupid questions and I'm ruining the stars for you." He was so clever and knew so many things and as much as she tried to learn as much as she was capable of, there were so many gaps in what she knew and what she understood. He didn't seem to mind too much as he hugged her close, though and she smiled.

Held there in his arms, when she told him she loved him, he frowned. Why did he frown? Was she misunderstanding what he meant when he'd said that he loved her and he was concerned? She had played that conversation and that kiss back in her mind a hundred times a trial in the two weeks since, and she genuinely believed that he'd meant it. Oh, this was just all too confusing and she watched him as he said that he loved her, too, but then quantified it with how much he cared about her. Like a sick relative. Didn't one care for a sick relative? She wanted to believe that he meant what she wanted him to mean, but there was all this talk and nothing else. One tent, which had been her idea she recalled with an inward cringe, and a briefly mirrored expression, when she'd asked him about coming on the campaign, she'd said she wanted one tent. His solution? We'll be tired and cold so lets share body heat. She could warm up a stone in the campfire and wrap it in a cover and it would serve the same function. Cold and tired. How romantic. He'd asked just the other trial if she wanted to buy another tent, come to that.

Sitting on the bench next to him, she turned so that she was facing him, making sure that she could see his eyes. How did she do this? She decided that, realistically, there was only one way. "I try not to talk about my childhood around you because I think it upsets you. I need you to know that it doesn't upset me, I am who I am because of it. I know that it's left scars, but they are part of me. I know you don't like them, I even understand why. But I was raised in service to an Immortal, everything they did, they did to teach me to serve Her better, to be better in Her name. And I don't tell people because they'll think that my worship is just some brainwashing slave hangover, and I'm worried that you're going to think that. I need you to understand me better than that, to know me better than that. And if you can't do those things then I need you to trust me when I say that She chose me and I chose Her every trial from the first breath I drew to now. Can you do that?"

Yep. Only one way, Faith, she considered.

Badly.

His expression told her so much more than words and she knew the answer he would give almost before he gave it. It didn't make sense to him, she understood that, but it was right for her. It was her choice and her decision and, no matter what, he respected that. Her eyes filled with tears, but this time there was no confusion in them. She loved him, he loved her and she just needed to tell him and stop messing about with all of these mixed messages and lost signals. So, she had the full and clear intention of just clearing the air, telling him again how she felt but also just sharing the fears and concerns that had built up between them. That was, surely, the only way that they were going to get themselves sorted out, she considered and her hands squeezed his as she started. "Padraig...I..."

... and that was as far as she got.

Another voice spoke and Faith's hands in Padraig's tensed, her body jolting as though electricity had hit her. She knew that voice. How could she even begin to? Shock, amazement and absolute awe settled on to her face and she turned to look at the Immortal who came into view. She sat, eyes wide in amazement and all the time her body did not move even as her mind screamed at her to kneel, to bow, to do something, to say something.

She sat in shock, transfixed.

Famula, it was her beloved Immortal and Faith knew it as surely as she knew anything, spoke to her and she knew her name. Never again would the girl consider that her name had been given to her by Jamal, because now, now it was hers, gifted to her by Famula herself. As though that realisation, that giving of a name, had shocked her into movement, Faith fell onto her knees, unmindful of the grass beneath them. "Never. Not while I draw breath, nor after", she vowed. Disappoint Famula? Lose her faith or fall into some place where the Immortal did not matter? Faith simply could not begin to understand such and there was no comprehension in her of the merest possibility.

But Famula continued to speak and Faith listened, her full and total attention on the Immortal before her. A duty for her? An undertaking? There was no doubt in the young woman's mind, no question. She already served the Immortal completely and would do with every breath and beyond. She already gave herself completely and so there was no pause, no hesitation, just a moment of realisation of how glad she was that she had spoken to Padraig before this happened. Maybe Famula had waited, until that moment that Faith had told the other soul she needed to, perhaps it was happenstance. But this was who she was and who she had been born to be and so, without hesitation she put her hands into the hands of the Immortal she had worshipped since before she could speak. And she spoke what she knew would always be the answer.

"Unto my last breath and beyond"

The feeling of Famula's hands holding on to hers was something beyond her ability to explain or understand, but Faith looked at the tattoo as it snaked around her wrist and she heard the words Famula spoke with wide silver eyes. Serving others for the greater good and serving the dead? Oh those things she could do, would do and she found herself speechless once again as she gazed up at Famula. She had no doubt that Faith would rise to the challenge? Faith, normally pale, was as white as a sheet by this point but she was as determined as she had ever been that she would rise to the challenge. She would work tirelessly and she would do so every trial that she could. This she would have promised, had she been able to actually speak, but it was good to know that Famula knew.

At the prospect of seeing Her again, Faith found her voice, although it was small and barely above a whisper when she spoke "I will not let you down."

She didn't follow, it would have seemed rude to her, but her eyes remained transfixed on the Immortal as she left. Kneeling on the ground, looking at where Famula had been, Faith lifted her right hand and looked at the tattoo on it. It was beautiful, intricate and delicate and she examined it closely for a few moments. She didn't speak, she couldn't have done so, but she did breathe, which she had largely forgotten to do in the moments before. As her whirlwind of thoughts started to settle and she recognised where she was, resituating herself in this place, she knelt on the ground and lifted her head to look for him.

"Padraig?" Her eyes sought him out and she smiled her relief when she saw him. The emotions were overwhelming to her, which seemed to happen a lot around him she considered, but seeing him calmed her. "I.. so, yes. I.. that was her. Look" She held out her arm to show him her wrist. Ignoring the wet grass beneath her, she did not mind it or pay it heed, Faith knelt in absolute shock and awe. "I... it's like. I made the right choice. When he asked me if I wanted to be free, I made the right choice." She had worried, in truth. As much as she knew that she had done what she did, made the decision that she had so that she could serve better, it had taken every ounce of her own self-belief in order to be convinced she had done the right thing. Here, though, was validation of that. "She knew my name", she whispered to him and beamed "Thank you. For.. what you said before she... I realised. I knew what you were going to say. I knew already. Thank you. For loving me too, I mean." Looking at him, she looked around as if realising where they were again. "Do you want to keep walking or go home?"

Going home would be her vote, where she could retreat to her room and try to make sense of the enormity of this night and what had happened in it.