Lys: Sabbath Thoughts

Cathair entered the room, not knowing whether he should be there or not, but having little other choice. His attempts at finding Sabbath-appropriate occupation had failed, so here he was. He wondered what sort of a God would force his followers to rest for a whole day. On the surface, it seemed a good thing. But his hands and feet itched to be occupied.

Still, God... you're better than the rest.

He found a seat in a corner, half in, half out of the gathering. If he was wanted, he was there, and if not, they could just ignore him.

He wondered, not for the first time, what Aithne was up to. Or, more exactly, what Portia was up to. The woman had a look in her eye that reminded Cathair of his mother just before Christmas.... always with that "I know something you don't" look in her eye.

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Aithne, having deposited her new things on her bed, wrapped her father's cloak around her new dress, and walked up to the villa feeling cozy warm. The smile had yet to leave her face. She doubted it would do so any time soon. Warm! Warm and pretty. A gift from God, indeed. There was no other explanation.

Stopping, she turned back towards the cloister and the chapel. This was a blessing that deserved immediate thanksgiving.