"Unexpected Gratitude" Log Date: 2/1, 2/2/01 Log Cast: Gabriel, Faanshi Log Intro: These days it is not in the slightest uncommon for Faanshi to come across wounded individuals in Bordertown who need her aid -- but rare is it indeed for her to encounter _Empyreans_ there. Summoned out into the Mongrel quarter of the city by a desperate father who needs her to save his daughters, Faanshi accomplished two healings only to be waylain for a third -- by none other than Tyler, the gladiator who not too terribly long ago tried to offer her flowers. Tyler frantically led Faanshi to the site of an ambush he and the Empyrean he serves had just undergone, where the Empyrean in question lay broken and in agony. Horrified, Faanshi immediately applied herself to trying to mend the Son of Air's ruined wing, a daunting task for which she'd had almost no prior practice save the mending of an owl graisha's much smaller pinions. Somehow she managed to pull it off... but collapsed shortly thereafter, leaving the dazed Empyrean and his Mongrel companion to try to figure out what to do with her. And what they decided was to take her as quickly as possible to shelter... though their definition of shelter meant a place in Haven Faanshi has never before entered: the Palladium. *===========================< In Character Time >===========================* Time of day: Morning Date on Aether: Saturday, October 15, 3907. Year on Earth: 1507 A.D. Phase of the Moon: Waxing Gibbous Season: Fall Weather: Clouds Temperature: Cool *==========================================================================* Fortunately for Gabriel and the mongrel gladiator-turned-bodyguard (although that stint had been less successful than his appearances in the arena), the trek back from Bordertown was uneventful. Tyler carried Faanshi, and Gabriel coaxed Kosha along, and the two reached the Palladium without incident. It is also fortunate that the darkness hid them, for surely some eyebrows would have been raised (if not voices) were anyone to discover the identity of Tyler's precious 'burden.' But Gabriel is still friendly enough with some of the Guards that he managed to concoct a plausible story and get them into the safety of the embassy, and thus into House Augustus. It's later, now. Tyler's since vanished -- to wash up, return to his own home, or maybe regale some comrades with his exploits -- and the place is quiet. But for Kosha's reassuring pants, as he lies on the bed beside Faanshi. She'd been set down carefully on Gabriel's luxurious, hand-me-down four-poster, with a pillow propped comfortably beneath her head, and the only article of clothing removed was the veil. Gabriel was just too curious. He's sitting nearby, in a low-backed chair drawn up beside the bed, and he's absently stroking Kosha's fur while watching over his curious young 'charge.' One could not ask for a more vigilant guard than the dog. Kosha is either very well-trained -- or bears enough love for this fragile female in black that her welfare trumps lesser concerns such as The Need to Go Outside, or The Need to Eat Something, Preferably Involving Meat. Only the Need to Have His Ears Scritched seems to be enough to distract the hound's attention from the bed; for hours now, the creature's waited patiently by his mistress, sometimes dozing lightly himself. But now, apparently having decided that Gabriel is a friend, he permits the Empyrean's attentions. Because, after all, mmmmm skitches mmmmm. As for the girl... the black veil's removal necessitated delving under the top portion of her equally black sari, where the delicate chain had gone around behind her head. The catch of the chain is found easily enough -- though curious hands and eyes might also note the ebon hair under the sari. Or something that feels subtly off about the ears, if that is not pre-empted by her face. She is certainly darker than an Empyrean, though not as dark as many if not most Varati in Haven; her features are delicate of line, and in slumber, they are not exactly tranquil. A small furrow creases her sungolden brow. The removal of the veil has allowed one other thing, as well. Each time she's begun to toss her head and murmur fretfully in her sleep, the dog has promptly licked her face. And as if sensing Kosha's presence, she's settled down again, comforted exactly like a small child with her favorite puppy. At some point during the vigil, a House servant had entered, looking both wary and curious as he set down a tray of refreshments near the bed. It had included dog-refreshments, as well -- some leftover scraps from cena -- dinner -- such as chunks of veal and fish and other equally delectable meat-smelling things. Gabriel had dismissed the servant with barely a glance and a nod -- he was engrossed in removing Faanshi's veil at the time -- and the curly-headed youth had slipped back out, wide-eyed and eager to spread the gossip about the strange 'waif' the Aegian had brought home. Now, as he sits beside the bed and strokes the dog's fur, Gabriel remembers the food, and he reaches over to pluck up some tasty chunk of veal from the tray. "Here, boy," he urges quietly, reaching out to cup his palm beneath the dog's nose. Yet his eyes remain fixed on Faanshi's golden-skinned face, searching for any signs of wakefulness. Ooooo. FOOD. That smells good! Kosha's head lifts, and with an eager little yurf he practically inhales the veal out of the Empyrean's hand. Quite clearly, this lifts Gabriel considerably in the hound's estimation, for Kosha's tail starts thumping lightly against the bed as he waits hopefully for more. That magnificent plume also happens to brush repeatedly against the maiden's nearest ankle, which provokes a faint crinkling of Faanshi's features. But it's when impulse and hunger finally persuade Kosha off the bed -- he might be a vigilant guard, but he's also a shameless beggar -- and it shifts beneath his considerable weight that Faanshi does in fact jolt into the beginnings of awareness. Green eyes flash open, casting a wild and disoriented glance about the room. A soft chuckle was drawn from Gabriel's throat at the hound's reaction, and he'd proceeded to feed him another morsel, forgetting, momentarily, his self-appointed duty to watch over his young 'savior.' As Kosha jumps off the bed, he's ready with another strip of meat, and he holds it before the mongrel's nose while scritching his ears with his other hand. He'd meant to watch for the first sign that Faanshi was awakening, but his best intentions are thwarted by a long-buried boyish enthusiasm for dogs. Gabriel Perfect posture, rigid grace, poised power. Gabriel Augustin is both nobleman and soldier, although he bears neither weapons nor armor, and his voice varies from the smooth inflection of a patrician to the terse, gruff commands of a Praetor. Broad shoulders, lean hips, and a toned physique allude to his military training, and the wings that slope upward from his back are battered and strong, off-white in color -- a shade less than perfect. His face is that of a nobleman, though, with a straight nose, firm jaw, and high, angular cheekbones. Sandy-gold hair, worn longer than a soldier's, has a tendency to fall forward and shade his eyes, which are undoubtedly his most expressive feature. A vivid, clear, blue-green -- with a hint of a cat-like slant -- they can range from glitteringly lethal to the cool, calm placidity of a mountain lake. He wears plain garb, for his station -- a simple linen chiton bearing the purple 'clavus' of an Aegian, draped pallium, and leather caligae. His only piece of jewelry is a silver ring upon his left hand, which bears the House's seal. And while his manner is typically sedate and reserved, there is a sense that he is always watching, carefully; perhaps a holdover from Praetorian training -- a need to remain alert, wary, and ready for any eventuality. Though she does not actually voice the inevitable "Where am I?", still that question is foremost in Faanshi's eyes and expression as she sits bolt upright. All that she does utter is a little breathless gasp of shock -- and hard on the heels of that she must lift a hand to her brow, staving off a distressing tilting of the room. That in turn is dismissed by the realization that her face is... bare. A second little gasp escapes her and once more her gaze flashes about the room. Her veil -- where is her veil? Kosha, in the meantime, starts at Faanshi's signs of life. The second meat morsel happily scarfed up out of Gabriel's hand, the dog swivels his head about and begins to wag his tail harder. The gasp intrudes upon Gabriel's focus of the dog, and he lifts his head to find that Faanshi is sitting up and suddenly wide awake. He smiles, but it's an uncertain one, and he gives one last absent pat to Kosha before wiping the vestiges of dog slobber off on his chiton. He still hasn't changed from his ambush in Bordertown, anyway, and he's looking rather rumpled and dusty -- his wings still bear traces of soot and blood. Nonetheless, his manners are courtly. He inclines his head and observes, "Don't worry. You're in the Palladium. I brought you here. I'll take you back to Atesh-Gah as soon as you like, but I... wanted to thank you, first." Recollection strikes -- not only of the occurrences of the night before, but of the first time she'd seen this particular Empyrean. Granted, the Children of Air are common enough in Haven, but few indeed are the ones of them who have actually spoken before to Faanshi, and admired her dog to boot. The halfbreed's head, half-bared by the sari that's slipped down in the midst of her slumber, swivels about to note the proudly winged figure beside the bed -- and then her gaze immediately, modestly drops. "It is my duty and honor to heal, dominus," she murmurs. "Your wing... it functions?" "Aye, it does." Gabriel flares his wings out to demonstrate, and gingerly spreads the right one to its full breadth. It's fully healed, but there's still a vestigial ache that only time will mend. "Thank you," he says again, his voice one of quiet sincerity. "Tyche must have led Tyler to you. You have... an amazing gift. It felt -- I felt..." He pauses, fumbling for words, and finally gives up on finding the right way to express his gratitude. Instead, he asks, "Is there any way I can repay you?" Tyler. Oh yes, Tyler. The girl's complexion is dusky enough that the blush that darkens her cheeks is not necessarily easily detectable -- but it doesn't need to be. Her expression is almost ridiculously easy to read, and it broadcasts a surge of consternation at the mention of the Mongrel's name. But then again... it could also be in reaction to the notion of payment, or the praise of her power, for her posture seems to shrink in on itself in embarrassment. "I-It would not be proper, dominus, for me to accept payment -- I-I am but a shudra, my needs are small--" Is this the same girl who so serenely and confidently poured forth a deep golden river of power into the restoration of the Aegian's wing? It must be her, surely. That's definitely her dog wagging his tail at top speed at the sound of her voice. "You also saved my life," Gabriel quietly asserts. "I could have died out there. If someone else came along, I'd have been an easy target. I was a fool for going out there with so little preparation and protection, and I paid for that. But maybe the gods favor fools, because Tyler brought you to me, and I'm not dead in a gutter in Bordertown with my throat slit." He exhales a ragged sigh and looks down to run his hand along Kosha's back, because it's easier to watch the dog than this green-eyed healer. "Let me do something for you," he asks. "Surely there's something I can offer -- some way of repaying you? Name it, and if it's within my power, it's yours." It is an odd feeling indeed, having a _man_ offering her anything within his power. Faanshi's immediate surroundings have stabilized, the brief wave of dizziness that hit her upon her sitting up long past, but still there lingers a feeling that her world is still somehow tilted. The young healer wraps her arms about herself in unconscious reaction -- and she, too, watches Kosha. He is her anchor, the one familiar thing in this strange chamber. "If... if you would consider doing something for someone in need, dominus," she says then, greatly hesitant, as though she fears she speaks out of turn, "I... I would be content..." An awkward smile curves Gabriel's mouth -- one which holds relief, for finally here is the chance to do something concrete that he might balance against the gift of his own life. It won't be enough, but it's something. "Forget, for a moment, that I am an Empyrean, and that you are... a Varati." He'd hesitated then, for there are enough clues that he's uncertain of her real ancestry; but she's Varati by definition if not by birth. "Forget that I'm an Aegian and you are a shudra. I owe you a debt, and I will repay it. Who is it that's in need? What do you want me to do?" His voice is insistent without being demanding, and there is no sense of resentment in him; he doesn't blame her for being the one to save his life. He watches her steadily as he waits for her answer. Clues indeed -- and another one comes in the way the girl goes very still at how she is identified. But she offers no clarification as to the nature of her blood, one way or another. It is, at any rate, immaterial when she has been given a chance to see that someone gets aid. _Who_, in particular? Faanshi pulls in a sigh, well aware that even with this man's help she could not soothe away the hunger and illness and cold and pain that plague practically everyone in Bordertown and no small number of denizens of Haven outside it. Then the answer comes, with surprising ease, and she does not need to think any farther than the reason she'd left Atesh-Gah to begin with the night before. "There is a man named Micah in Bordertown... his roof fell in on his home... on his two little girls. He will need help to rebuild it... if you could, dominus, if you would consider..." And she looks up, still visibly, achingly shy of gaze, but it seems that concern for others is enough to pull her attention upward to face the man before her. Blue-green eyes, the color of turquoise -- with the faintest cat-like slant at the corners -- blink in surprise, and Gabriel finds a whimsical, bemused smile curving his mouth. He had expected that she would ask for something for herself, and the fact that she does not is cause for reflection and re-evaluation. After a moment, he nods. "I'll help him," is his simple reply. "If you tell me where he may be found." His eyes narrow and the smile flees his lips as he asks, "His girls... are they all right? Did you heal them?" "Magda and Losie are all right now," is Faanshi's reply -- which does not directly answer the Aegian's question, at least not the second one. But it doesn't really need to. For just a fraction of an instant as she makes that simple proclamation, the acute bashfulness of her features eases -- and allows through a glimmer of the same peaceful serenity with which she'd stepped up to the task of repairing the wing now as functional as its mate. But evidently she's still too timid to look a man in the eye for long, for her summer-hued gaze once more modestly averts itself as she goes on, "The Imphadi Micah lives in the northern part of Bordertown. H-he makes boots." "Boots," Gabriel echoes. The bemused smile still resides on his lips, and something about her bashful demeanor and lowered gaze prompts him to add, "I never thought I could sit and speak to a Varati like this. I never thought I could be indebted to one. But here we are, and the debt is no burden on my heart the way I thought it would be. I will help your friend, dom--" He cuts off, then cants his head to the side and pronounces uncertainly, "imphada. But I think the balance is still uneven, so if you ever need anything else of me, you have only to ask. And I give you my promise I will try to fulfill it." Is she blushing again? Given her overall behavior, such would hardly be surprising, and the healer's expression certainly seems to suggest her cheeks are heating beneath their sungolden skin. "My needs are small," she murmurs again, "and Clan Kha--th-the Clan I serve fulfills them." Evidently she is bound and determined to accept nothing on her own behalf, but she also solemnly and respectfully inclines her head while she appends, "But you honor me with your promise and I thank you--!" [And with that, the grateful Aegian offers sustenance to the shy young woman who has saved his life -- and enough privacy so that she can eat without curious eyes upon her. The pledge to help her Mongrel acquaintances made, he also sees his savior discretely back to Atesh-Gah. End log.]