Aspasia - Canada - Feb 2007
OOC: This scene takes place after the Events in Hamilton and before the DC GoTM. Trying desperately to play catch-up with LJ entries now.
Jack is sitting on the ground with Charlotte curled up next to him. Her arms are folded over his lap and her head is resting on her arms. He is petting her, stroking her hair in even and soothing motions, while silent tears slide down her cheeks. Only barely perceptible, her shoulders are shaking. "Not want hurt." She says brokenly in her softly growling voice, obviously in response to a question he has asked her. "But..." She pauses, trying to find the words, but her train of thought is derailed at the sounds of someone approaching.
Jack smirks. "Speak of the devil, and she shall appear."
Charlotte looks towards the sound, scarlet tears streaking her face.
Aspasia steps into view, worry clearly expressed on her face. Still, the Amazon did not move at her fastest speeds, nor did she choose to try and hide noise of her approach. Aspasia glances at Jack, "In this case, words were not needed." She looks again at her daughter, brow furrowing, as she starts to close in on the two.
I cannot believe that Jack would do something to distress my childe. What is going on here?
Charlotte glances briefly at Jack, then turns her entire focus on Aspasia. Her summer eyes are wide, conflicted, but welcoming and almost relieved.
Looking at the picture before her, the woman offers, "The call of the blood... concerned me." Unusually, Aspasia’s body language is awkward, unsure. "I could not ignore it." And the fingers of both hands run through her hair, before dropping slowly to her sides. Silent.
"Unetsi." Charlotte’s graveled voice, already easy for Aspasia to recognize, is calm.
The Amazon watches as her daughter pulls herself up to a sitting position and pats the ground in invitation. Charlotte also appears unsure, but her gaze is clear. Likewise, the Sympathy tells Aspasia that Charlotte does not feel like her sire is interloping or otherwise intruding.
The Amazon crouches down. "What has upset you, daughter?" She keeps her voice low and soft.
Careless of the blood tears streaking her cheeks, Charlotte tentatively lays her head on Aspasia's shoulder. It is the instinct of a child seeking the solace only a mother can give, yet tinged with uncertainty.
That hesitance creeps into her voice as she responds, "Not want hurt Unetsi hea-rt, like when think of-fer self for debt. Then think make less hurt, may-be no hurt. Char-lotte not known. Think he-lp not hurt, not think want lea-ve . . ." She trails off. When she speaks again, it is her version of a whisper, a soft growling tone. "Not want hurt. But. Dre-ams, no good. Now Sam. Both make hea-rt wound."
Aspasia's eyes flicker over to Jack when Charlotte speaks of the debt, then automatically her arm slides around Charlotte, offering comfort.
* He’ll remember that, and ask questions later, Amazon. Jack…notices things. *
Charlotte, appearing to forget that Jack is present, curls into Aspasia. The hesitancy diminishes as she gives herself over to the soothing nature of being held by one's mother.
"You have experienced bad dreams, recently then?" Her tone is one of inquiry, but still as if Aspasia doesn’t know how to react or read her daughter's reactions.
Perhaps felt echoes of mine?
Nodding, she replies in a quiet, rambling growl, "Dre-ams bad. May-be dre-ams bring mem-ry? Mem-ry hurt. Dre-ams hurt. Then, Sam. Not 'mem-ber have pup, but Sam mean must have pup.
A grandchilde of my childe?
“Dreams hurt. Not 'mem-ber hurt. Few moons now, make hea-rt quiet. Not want hurt Unetsi, do wrong. Not want make Unetsi lea-ve . . ."
Her shoulders shake as she turns her head to bury her face in her mother's embrace. Reflexively, Aspasia now wraps both arms about Charlotte, holding her gently. One hand starts to brush over the top of the woman's hair.
Charlotte clings to Aspasia, as if wishing to be sure of her place like unto Persephone returned to Demeter after her time with Hades. The touch of her mother begins to soothe Charlotte, washing away the rough edges of her fear and pain.
Jack looks at Aspasia for a moment before looking down, his hat concealing his eyes (a common gesture for him when he's trying to speak on uncomfortable things).
"She had a dream -- or a memory -- of you abandoning her, petite. I was trying to explain that torpor is a funny thing, and that what happened then ain't a caution on what's happening now."
If she has dreams about then - she has more knowledge than I can lay claim to.
Outwardly, Aspasia nods. "You speak truth, Jack." She lowers her head to direct a whisper towards Charlotte's ear. "Daughter, here is a truth for you. No one can make me leave you. Not even yourself, if I don't wish to go."
To indicate her understanding, Charlotte nods and turns her eyes upward to meet Aspasia's, but so that nothing of the embrace is disrupted. The tears have stopped, leaving only the tracks of scarlet on her cheeks. "Not want go now? Char-lotte, Inali, both. Say." She pauses a moment before speaking again, her summer eyes shining. " Adageyudi, Unetsi." It is the first time she has used the Cherokee word meaning the deepest, most unconditional love for Aspasia. The tone as she says the words almost sound like she is making a decision in her mind.
Aspasia pauses, inhales air. "Tell me about Sam, if you can."
"Sam." Charlotte repeats in her graveled voice. "Ev-ry time go see Johnny, Akuete south, feel not right. Thi-nk first, not with Taladu , not with Unetsi, not like big packs. But. This time. Gan-grel pup scent. Mine. Unetsi. Not 'mem-ber have pup. Blood not lie.”
As I have failed to remember you. Curse of the fog.
Coins to pay Charon.
Aspasia curbs her thoughts from straying further and redirects her attention to Charlotte’s words when her daughter’s tone of voice turns mournful.
"Mess."
Aspasia's nose wrinkles as repeats back what she thinks is the underlying issue. "Another kindred has claimed 'Sam' as his childer but the tie of blood is not there between you and him that exists as it is between you and I. And you feel Sam through the blood and not him. So he lies." She frowns.
"What does he gain in making this false claim?" Aspasia looks at Jack over Charlotte's head.
Jack shrugs, but continues to direct his comments to Aspasia. "Disregarding the usual elder plotting that I ain't never got a handle on, petite, if'n I had to take a guess it would be to get to you. Every time one of your childer has a problem, you come running, and
that ain't exactly a secret, especially after Milwaukee."
I have exposed a weakness to mine enemies, though I know them not.
Aspasia frowns as she listens, but clearly she cannot argue with the Sanctified’s assessment.
He pushes the hat a bit more forward and leans against a tree. "Ain't a stretch for Stone or one of his allies to have manipulated someone into drawing you out." Jack sighs. "Of course, it could be a more innocent misunderstanding. Things happen in the blood that are only understood by Him, and there's always the problem of torpor dreams. Course, I
ain't exactly one who is inclined to think the best of folk, non?"
"I think…. it must be something more innocent. Perhaps the man has suffered the fog himself. He could have known Sam's sire, Charlotte's child." She hugs the woman reflexively, before continuing. "regardless. It is a puzzle to be solved."
The Cherokee responds to the hug by laying one arm over Aspasia's mid-section, hugging back and then staying enfolded in her mother's arms.
"Once we accomplish what is needed here, Charlotte." Aspasia, looks out into the darkness, thinking. Her daughter’s words flow into the night air, and it is only when Jack speaks again that she pulls away from her reverie.
"…You're probably right that it's more innocent. But the devil's advocate makes thinking things through a bit easier in the end, n'est-ce pas?"
A wry smile crosses the Amazon's lips. "Yes, Jack. You are right." Aspasia looks at her daughter. "We will make this 'mess' right. I promise you."
And the line increases if so. Another gift in comfort and strength.
Charlotte meets her mother's eyes by tipping her head back to remain in the crook of Aspasia's arm. "Trust Unetsi." She sighs, saying bitterly, "Hate not 'mem-ber. Mind-wound hurt." Continuing more normally, "But. Ex-dus first. Char-lotte hurt wait."
The hesitation is back as she simultaneously stiffens and clings to Aspasia. "Can ask Unetsi some-ting be-fore go back? Al-one?" From where she is curled in her mother's arms, Charlotte gives Jack an apologetic look, as if to say she does not want to exclude him but this is a matter for sire and childe.
Jack gets up and touches the brim of his hat by way of goodbye. "I'll head back to the others and make sure no one has burned down Canada while we were gone." He smirks and walks away.
Wise is the man who knows when to leave women to their private counsel.
Fondness.
Aspasia calls after him. "At the very least, tell them to wait until we get there to join in." There is a tone of laughter in her voice.
Charlotte gently extricates herself from the embrace, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Her cheeks are still streaked with crimson. Meeting Aspasia's eyes, her own summer gaze solemn, she inhales as if in preparation for further speech. When she does speak, her graveled voice is tinged with sorrow and sympathy. "From time Hisa die, Unetsi feel al-one. May-be try hide, but. Char-lotte know. Feel. Blood, feel. Adanvdo, He-art feel."
The mention of Hisa’s name aches like a wound reopening before it has healed. Aspasia exerts her will to contain the truth of the reaction and the pain as she listens to Charlotte.
Very carefully, she lays one palm against her mother's cheek for a brief moment, clear blue eyes loving.
It is a deliberate action on Aspasia’s part not to flinch or pull away. The strain of containing her the emotional surge leaves the Amazon little in the way of actually hearing Charlotte’s words, while her daughter searches for what to say, clearly challenged herself in forcing the issue.
Then, Apasia hears her daughter say, “….Want lea-rn Am-zon, Unetsi custom, gods. Want lea-rn, make Char-lotte, Inali, kaliwohi, who-le. May-be help mind-wound not bleed, bleed, bleed. Ple-ase?"
Aspasia is silent a long while, staring into the blue eyes of her daughter. For a moment, the face before her is not this child, but the other. Her dead warrior daughter.
It was wrong. This was not her time. She was supposed to outlive me. They are supposed to outlive me.
Pain.
Anger.
My last night with Hisa was taken from me, other than the precious moments in that Ballio.
The Lancea.
Anthesteria.
I *will* see her again. I will call her to my side.
I only need wait for the night ordained by the gods.
Hisa will come to me.
I will ask her of her killers, and I will hear her voice. And she will know she is loved. She is not forgotten.
Never forgotten.
Finally, the Amazon answers. "Yes. There is a heart wound. One that will be salved only with the death of those who took her from me." She runs a hand through her hair. "I will mourn her a full measure of the seasons. I intend to lay the ashes and bones of her killers before her grave."
A soft growl of acknowledgment and hungry righteousness is Charlotte’s only reply.
"That is nothing you can heal for me, daughter. The fullness of ritual and custom will give me the resolution I need." The Amazon looks skyward. "As for your request, of course I will teach. It only takes the asking, as you have done." Aspasia's voice is soft.
"We will make time you and I. And I will teach."
More than one student. A seal to the bond which cannot be broken or cast aside. His eldest daughter and the lost warrior of my siring.
Though the teaching of battle strategies will wait until Eoin wakes again to run with me.
But first, to Bastian’s court. To my grove. Festival and all that follows it.
Hisa.
Revenge.
Jack is sitting on the ground with Charlotte curled up next to him. Her arms are folded over his lap and her head is resting on her arms. He is petting her, stroking her hair in even and soothing motions, while silent tears slide down her cheeks. Only barely perceptible, her shoulders are shaking. "Not want hurt." She says brokenly in her softly growling voice, obviously in response to a question he has asked her. "But..." She pauses, trying to find the words, but her train of thought is derailed at the sounds of someone approaching.
Jack smirks. "Speak of the devil, and she shall appear."
Charlotte looks towards the sound, scarlet tears streaking her face.
Aspasia steps into view, worry clearly expressed on her face. Still, the Amazon did not move at her fastest speeds, nor did she choose to try and hide noise of her approach. Aspasia glances at Jack, "In this case, words were not needed." She looks again at her daughter, brow furrowing, as she starts to close in on the two.
I cannot believe that Jack would do something to distress my childe. What is going on here?
Charlotte glances briefly at Jack, then turns her entire focus on Aspasia. Her summer eyes are wide, conflicted, but welcoming and almost relieved.
Looking at the picture before her, the woman offers, "The call of the blood... concerned me." Unusually, Aspasia’s body language is awkward, unsure. "I could not ignore it." And the fingers of both hands run through her hair, before dropping slowly to her sides. Silent.
"Unetsi." Charlotte’s graveled voice, already easy for Aspasia to recognize, is calm.
The Amazon watches as her daughter pulls herself up to a sitting position and pats the ground in invitation. Charlotte also appears unsure, but her gaze is clear. Likewise, the Sympathy tells Aspasia that Charlotte does not feel like her sire is interloping or otherwise intruding.
The Amazon crouches down. "What has upset you, daughter?" She keeps her voice low and soft.
Careless of the blood tears streaking her cheeks, Charlotte tentatively lays her head on Aspasia's shoulder. It is the instinct of a child seeking the solace only a mother can give, yet tinged with uncertainty.
That hesitance creeps into her voice as she responds, "Not want hurt Unetsi hea-rt, like when think of-fer self for debt. Then think make less hurt, may-be no hurt. Char-lotte not known. Think he-lp not hurt, not think want lea-ve . . ." She trails off. When she speaks again, it is her version of a whisper, a soft growling tone. "Not want hurt. But. Dre-ams, no good. Now Sam. Both make hea-rt wound."
Aspasia's eyes flicker over to Jack when Charlotte speaks of the debt, then automatically her arm slides around Charlotte, offering comfort.
* He’ll remember that, and ask questions later, Amazon. Jack…notices things. *
Charlotte, appearing to forget that Jack is present, curls into Aspasia. The hesitancy diminishes as she gives herself over to the soothing nature of being held by one's mother.
"You have experienced bad dreams, recently then?" Her tone is one of inquiry, but still as if Aspasia doesn’t know how to react or read her daughter's reactions.
Perhaps felt echoes of mine?
Nodding, she replies in a quiet, rambling growl, "Dre-ams bad. May-be dre-ams bring mem-ry? Mem-ry hurt. Dre-ams hurt. Then, Sam. Not 'mem-ber have pup, but Sam mean must have pup.
A grandchilde of my childe?
“Dreams hurt. Not 'mem-ber hurt. Few moons now, make hea-rt quiet. Not want hurt Unetsi, do wrong. Not want make Unetsi lea-ve . . ."
Her shoulders shake as she turns her head to bury her face in her mother's embrace. Reflexively, Aspasia now wraps both arms about Charlotte, holding her gently. One hand starts to brush over the top of the woman's hair.
Charlotte clings to Aspasia, as if wishing to be sure of her place like unto Persephone returned to Demeter after her time with Hades. The touch of her mother begins to soothe Charlotte, washing away the rough edges of her fear and pain.
Jack looks at Aspasia for a moment before looking down, his hat concealing his eyes (a common gesture for him when he's trying to speak on uncomfortable things).
"She had a dream -- or a memory -- of you abandoning her, petite. I was trying to explain that torpor is a funny thing, and that what happened then ain't a caution on what's happening now."
If she has dreams about then - she has more knowledge than I can lay claim to.
Outwardly, Aspasia nods. "You speak truth, Jack." She lowers her head to direct a whisper towards Charlotte's ear. "Daughter, here is a truth for you. No one can make me leave you. Not even yourself, if I don't wish to go."
To indicate her understanding, Charlotte nods and turns her eyes upward to meet Aspasia's, but so that nothing of the embrace is disrupted. The tears have stopped, leaving only the tracks of scarlet on her cheeks. "Not want go now? Char-lotte, Inali, both. Say." She pauses a moment before speaking again, her summer eyes shining. " Adageyudi, Unetsi." It is the first time she has used the Cherokee word meaning the deepest, most unconditional love for Aspasia. The tone as she says the words almost sound like she is making a decision in her mind.
Aspasia pauses, inhales air. "Tell me about Sam, if you can."
"Sam." Charlotte repeats in her graveled voice. "Ev-ry time go see Johnny, Akuete south, feel not right. Thi-nk first, not with Taladu , not with Unetsi, not like big packs. But. This time. Gan-grel pup scent. Mine. Unetsi. Not 'mem-ber have pup. Blood not lie.”
As I have failed to remember you. Curse of the fog.
Coins to pay Charon.
Aspasia curbs her thoughts from straying further and redirects her attention to Charlotte’s words when her daughter’s tone of voice turns mournful.
"Mess."
Aspasia's nose wrinkles as repeats back what she thinks is the underlying issue. "Another kindred has claimed 'Sam' as his childer but the tie of blood is not there between you and him that exists as it is between you and I. And you feel Sam through the blood and not him. So he lies." She frowns.
"What does he gain in making this false claim?" Aspasia looks at Jack over Charlotte's head.
Jack shrugs, but continues to direct his comments to Aspasia. "Disregarding the usual elder plotting that I ain't never got a handle on, petite, if'n I had to take a guess it would be to get to you. Every time one of your childer has a problem, you come running, and
that ain't exactly a secret, especially after Milwaukee."
I have exposed a weakness to mine enemies, though I know them not.
Aspasia frowns as she listens, but clearly she cannot argue with the Sanctified’s assessment.
He pushes the hat a bit more forward and leans against a tree. "Ain't a stretch for Stone or one of his allies to have manipulated someone into drawing you out." Jack sighs. "Of course, it could be a more innocent misunderstanding. Things happen in the blood that are only understood by Him, and there's always the problem of torpor dreams. Course, I
ain't exactly one who is inclined to think the best of folk, non?"
"I think…. it must be something more innocent. Perhaps the man has suffered the fog himself. He could have known Sam's sire, Charlotte's child." She hugs the woman reflexively, before continuing. "regardless. It is a puzzle to be solved."
The Cherokee responds to the hug by laying one arm over Aspasia's mid-section, hugging back and then staying enfolded in her mother's arms.
"Once we accomplish what is needed here, Charlotte." Aspasia, looks out into the darkness, thinking. Her daughter’s words flow into the night air, and it is only when Jack speaks again that she pulls away from her reverie.
"…You're probably right that it's more innocent. But the devil's advocate makes thinking things through a bit easier in the end, n'est-ce pas?"
A wry smile crosses the Amazon's lips. "Yes, Jack. You are right." Aspasia looks at her daughter. "We will make this 'mess' right. I promise you."
And the line increases if so. Another gift in comfort and strength.
Charlotte meets her mother's eyes by tipping her head back to remain in the crook of Aspasia's arm. "Trust Unetsi." She sighs, saying bitterly, "Hate not 'mem-ber. Mind-wound hurt." Continuing more normally, "But. Ex-dus first. Char-lotte hurt wait."
The hesitation is back as she simultaneously stiffens and clings to Aspasia. "Can ask Unetsi some-ting be-fore go back? Al-one?" From where she is curled in her mother's arms, Charlotte gives Jack an apologetic look, as if to say she does not want to exclude him but this is a matter for sire and childe.
Jack gets up and touches the brim of his hat by way of goodbye. "I'll head back to the others and make sure no one has burned down Canada while we were gone." He smirks and walks away.
Wise is the man who knows when to leave women to their private counsel.
Fondness.
Aspasia calls after him. "At the very least, tell them to wait until we get there to join in." There is a tone of laughter in her voice.
Charlotte gently extricates herself from the embrace, albeit somewhat reluctantly. Her cheeks are still streaked with crimson. Meeting Aspasia's eyes, her own summer gaze solemn, she inhales as if in preparation for further speech. When she does speak, her graveled voice is tinged with sorrow and sympathy. "From time Hisa die, Unetsi feel al-one. May-be try hide, but. Char-lotte know. Feel. Blood, feel. Adanvdo, He-art feel."
The mention of Hisa’s name aches like a wound reopening before it has healed. Aspasia exerts her will to contain the truth of the reaction and the pain as she listens to Charlotte.
Very carefully, she lays one palm against her mother's cheek for a brief moment, clear blue eyes loving.
It is a deliberate action on Aspasia’s part not to flinch or pull away. The strain of containing her the emotional surge leaves the Amazon little in the way of actually hearing Charlotte’s words, while her daughter searches for what to say, clearly challenged herself in forcing the issue.
Then, Apasia hears her daughter say, “….Want lea-rn Am-zon, Unetsi custom, gods. Want lea-rn, make Char-lotte, Inali, kaliwohi, who-le. May-be help mind-wound not bleed, bleed, bleed. Ple-ase?"
Aspasia is silent a long while, staring into the blue eyes of her daughter. For a moment, the face before her is not this child, but the other. Her dead warrior daughter.
It was wrong. This was not her time. She was supposed to outlive me. They are supposed to outlive me.
Pain.
Anger.
My last night with Hisa was taken from me, other than the precious moments in that Ballio.
The Lancea.
Anthesteria.
I *will* see her again. I will call her to my side.
I only need wait for the night ordained by the gods.
Hisa will come to me.
I will ask her of her killers, and I will hear her voice. And she will know she is loved. She is not forgotten.
Never forgotten.
Finally, the Amazon answers. "Yes. There is a heart wound. One that will be salved only with the death of those who took her from me." She runs a hand through her hair. "I will mourn her a full measure of the seasons. I intend to lay the ashes and bones of her killers before her grave."
A soft growl of acknowledgment and hungry righteousness is Charlotte’s only reply.
"That is nothing you can heal for me, daughter. The fullness of ritual and custom will give me the resolution I need." The Amazon looks skyward. "As for your request, of course I will teach. It only takes the asking, as you have done." Aspasia's voice is soft.
"We will make time you and I. And I will teach."
More than one student. A seal to the bond which cannot be broken or cast aside. His eldest daughter and the lost warrior of my siring.
Though the teaching of battle strategies will wait until Eoin wakes again to run with me.
But first, to Bastian’s court. To my grove. Festival and all that follows it.
Hisa.
Revenge.