Lys: Acceptable

Aithne nodded. "Perhaps I should." She didn't want to- she hated being ill, hated it all the more for the cause being a weak stomach- but she knew it was best. So she allowed herself to be led to the couch and put to bed like a little child. The Guttersnipe was gentle enough, but there was a familiar reserve in her actions, and she left Aithne to Cathair's care.

Aithne sighed. "I don't know what to do, Cathair. I try so hard to be acceptable to her, to be someone she would be happy to call friend, and then come times like this and she draws so deep into herself that I'm shut out completely." She pulled a corner of the blanket up by her cheek. "One of the men told me to be more like her. But I'm not her. I tried to be more like her, and I felt like a pretender.

"Everyone is kind to me, but it's rare that they like me. I want to please them all so much..."


Cathair, sitting on the edge of the couch, listened to her and wished he could change the others' minds. He wished they had known her as she used to be. She was not so different from the Guttersnipe then. She had fire enough to go up against the Guttersnipe and the rest of them. Was it her fault the fire had been stamped until it was almost out completely?

But he rested his hand on her shoulder and said, "You must remember they are different, Aithne. They don't understand us any more than you understand them. And the Guttersnipe is just as much warrior as lady, as you are bard and lady. Crom's toes, if anyone knows how different they are, it's the two of us."

The corner of Aithne's mouth turned up, and he was encouraged by it. He leaned down and kissed her temple. "You rest a bit. I'll make sure there's some supper waiting when you're up."

She smiled a little more and closed her eyes, looking peaceful. Heaving a sigh of his own, Cathair rose and joined the others at the table. He had to think this over...

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