I wrote a little less today because I spent some time exploring the characters I’m writing about.
Tirena readied herself for bed and doused the candles, leaving only one to light her way to the bed. Her bed. The bed that had once been her mother’s. The evening’s events whirled in her mind, conversations with Talven, with Dureil, and with Rafel especially replayed in her thoughts as she donned a sleeping shift and settled into the mattress. As her thoughts drifted more and more she realized that she hadn’t even thought of herself as Alanna, the girl from the village, since the night prior.
Rafel wandered the halls of the keep after leaving Tirena to her slumber. He had not wished the night to end, but knew he could not rush matters. Already it was clear, the growing attraction between them, but he dared not press the clanlord’s daughter. She was too precious to them both.
“You look as though you are lost in the stars, Rafel.” It was Dureil’s voice, and it brought him back to himself. He chuckled, smiling at her.
“I am a bit, sister.”
As Alanna walked through the open doors the room fell to a hush, and she felt every eye upon her. There were a dozen clanfolk, mostly older men but a couple of women also, seated at a large table that dominated the center of the room. At the far side of the room was another table, smaller, and there sat Rafel and Alen with another woman at his side, and another older man who stood slowly when she came in. Alanna found herself unable to move, staring at the man who she assumed must be her father. His hair was the same russet hue as her own, plaited at the temples but otherwise left unruly. His eyes were the same startling blue as her own as well.
“Tirena!” The clanlord’s cry was overjoyed, and he nearly stumbled in an effort to step around the table to move toward her. Dureil gently pressed a hand agains the young woman’s back, as though to urge her to go to him. She found herself unable to move at first, her gaze wandering a bit to the other clansfolk. When she caught Rafel’s gaze though she smiled, and with a steadying breath she moved forward.
Even before they reached the gates of the stronghold Alanna could hear the clamor within, news of her arrival being spread quickly. Men in leather and chain armor and dark hooded cloaks came out to greet them, bowing reverently to Alanna. Rafel urged her to keep moving, lest the crowd deter her from reaching her father. The way the clanfolk seemed to exalt her when none of them had ever met her was confusing, and a little intoxicating, and so it was good that Alen and Dureil kept the folk from coming close, and that Rafel took her arm and kept her moving until they reached the keep.
Her father’s home, as she assumed that’s what it must be, was a large stone building. Iron gates swung open and a heavy wooden door slid to one side to admit the four of them within, closing swiftly to keep the rest of the clan from following. Two young women approached then, speaking to Duriel in a language Alanna didn’t understand. The exchange was brief, and Dureil looked at Rafel. “Go and let him know we have arrived.” She turned back to the clanlord’s daughter and smiled. “Let’s get you a bath, and some clothes, and something to eat. Your father’s health has improved.”
Rafel’s voice drew her again from her thoughts, the younger man touching her shoulder to get her attention. “Doma-sha, is there anything you want to ask before we reach the stronghold?” he asked.
Alanna paused a moment, then pressed her lips together in thought. “I wouldn’t begin to know what to ask,” she admitted.
He nodded in understanding, squeezing her shoulder lightly. “Of course. Perhaps if I tell you what to expect when we arrive, it will help,” he offered. When she smiled at him he nodded and walked at her side as he spoke.
“Your father is the clanlord of the witken. Do you know what the witken are?”