Y67, Spring
She was tired.
Dawn was edging its way into the world, and she was tired from another night of Warding Duty. Their little corner of Saimaa needed a lot of Warding. Unfortunately, her best friend wanted her to meet some idiot man at breakfast today, when she would most likely go comatose right in her food, and the idiot man would laugh at her.
It was certain that the man was an idiot, of course; even her brother was an idiot, and he was the pick of the men around here, which was why her best friend was his wife, marking the only truly wise decision he’d ever made.
Or it might be even worse: she might pass out into her food and the unknown idiot wouldn’t laugh at her, or at least not openly, because of whose daughter she was. Another form of male idiocy was to be intimidated by the Empowered, such as her mother and herself. She’d seen it all too often: a man would look at her with sudden fear, because he thought she’d turn him into a newt or something equally ridiculous as repayment for a randomly offensive joke. Morons.
She stumbled into the eating area, hoping her friend wasn’t there yet, but her friend was, and was even then pointing her out to someone hidden behind a post. Great. Now, they’d close in for the kill, and she’d never get her sleep.
In the event, she actually managed to procure a bowl of Hot Morning Sludge, seat herself at a quiet table, and eat just enough to pass out before she dimly heard her friend saying, “Hey, she’s pretty cute, right?”
She didn’t catch his response, but when she snapped awake for a moment, as she often did in these morning naps, she found that he’d moved her bowl to one side so that she wouldn’t spill its disgusting contents all over herself as she slept. And he had been the one to do that; nice as her best friend was, the notion to do that would never have occurred to her.
Well, maybe he wasn’t as big of an idiot as she’d feared.
*
Y67, Summer
All the rigors of troll season were upon them, and she was even more tired than usual. Warding grew more important night by waning night, until the turning of the solstice would bring the ward of weather back.
She still hadn’t met the man her friend was so keen on her meeting, and that was perfectly fine by her.
She stumbled into the eating area again, but her usual table was occupied by a thin, rather nice looking man of about her own age. As soon as she saw him, something in her said, ‘Oh, there he is’. Being who she was, she trusted the voice.
Without a word, she sat down on his lap, put her arms around his shoulders, laid her head on his chest, and went to sleep, not hearing her best friend ask him, “You two really get along, huh?”
Words were overrated anyway.
