Lys: Something Missing

Aithne meekly retreated, allowing Gwenhwyfar's more skilled hands to take over. She found a small half-pleasure at Gwenhwyfar's mention of bruising. Not that she was happy about the event, just to hear that her diagnosis was at least partially correct. She was glad that the bard had thought to check for broken bones, though.

She stood by quietly, waiting to be needed, listening and learning. Jason? She had not known that they shared that experience. The Guttersnipe had never said... But she knows him better than I knew Cathair. The tie is stronger between them. She probably thinks I would not understand. she thinks. And I probably wouldn't.

The look on Gwenhwyfar's face, though, that she understands. The might-have-been, or hope-to-be. The want of something or someone that cannot be had now, but whose absence is felt daily.

Movement broke her reverie. The Lady was taking the Guttersnipe to the stream. Good. And wanted Aithne to take word to Master Lucius. She froze a moment. She had never gone to him alone. Why that should startle her, she has no idea. But somehow she'd had the impression that she was to be neither seen nor heard, but simply work at what tasks she was given through others. Still, someone had to do it, and the others were looking after their own duties. She nodded, bowed her head, and with a small smile at the Guttersnipe, turned to find her way to the solarium.

It wasn't until she had nearly reached the door that she noticed her appearance. The tunic that, only just this morning, was snow-white clean, was now dusty and bloodstained. Strands of hair looped out of her braid, and her hands were not yet quite clean. She paused a moment, then turned back to wash her hands and tuck the loops under her braid. Immediacy kept her from hunting down a tunic, but she did not wish to appear before her master looking untidy, not after his speech this morning.

With a deep breath, she opened the door, bowed, and said quietly, "Master, I have been sent by Lady Gwenhwyfar with news concerning the Guttersnipe."
She rued how alarming that sounded, but it was the proper way to approach. She had to wait to be allowed to come in and to speak.

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