Sunny Skies

There\'s a great deal of humidity in the air on this cloudless summer afternoon. Muirgheal, looking down at her new skirt, watches drops of sweat lick their way down her pale legs. \"Poor Lalaith,\" she murmurs, locking eyes for a moment with the beautiful black mare who stands close by, safely ensconced for now within Arabella\'s family\'s humble paddock. The horse, too, looks to be suffering from the heat somewhat. A sharp tug then, on Muirgheal\'s shirt, causes her to flinch. \"Please, Caoimhe no one wants to see me naked.\" Despite the reprimand, the lady bends down slightly to kiss the top of her daughter\'s sun-warmed tawny head. She\'s holding the girl in her arms, while her son sits at her feet. It\'s one of the family\'s first days out together since Rhifaroth disappeared. Restless Muirgheal cannot hide herself and her children inside for too long. Their skin is tellingly pale.

Insects flit about here and there, more in the shade of Chetwood though and not in the open heat. A few birds give an occasional call, but most have retired to cooler places for the afternoon and done their foraging by morning. Some bird soars away up high on currents of air, a buzzard perhaps, or other such bird.

Uannve has become familiar with Archet, and has spent a few hours near the small pool at the northern edge of the village--though upon her arrival more than a few children left at the direction of their parents. She soaked her feet for a while, before told off by one such adult.

It is now that Uannve has left, wet feet picking up the dirt of the road passing through Archet. She walks it quietly.

\"Uannve!\" Comes a call from the direction of Arabella\'s house. Muirgheal and her children are slightly behind the humble dwelling, close to the paddock so that the twins might spend some time with Aurlalaith. Being so small, they wouldn\'t recall that they\'ve been on this mare\'s back once or twice before. \"Uannve!\" The golden haired woman calls again. It\'s a happy sound, inviting. A pale hand raises in the air and waves, to catch the other woman\'s attention. The little group can just be seen from the road.

Uannve\'s dark eyes turn at the voice saying her name, and spot Muirgheal the second call. She\'s carrying her pack instead of wearing it, lest sweat lines dampen her dress. Freeing one hand from her pack, Uannve lifts it. She waves and then brushes it across her dusky bangs and to the side of her face.

Uannve\'s feet carry her off the road toward Arabella\'s house, which she gives a glance over before soon walking alongside it and on back to Muirgheal\'s location. \"How\'re you and they coping with the heat?\" she asks, setting her pack down. Uannve looks to be doing okay with it herself.

Upon spotting Uannve, the girl Caoimhe gives a shrill cry of delight. Her small, still chubby arms reach upwards toward the approaching woman, squirming wildly as though she wants to be free of her mother\'s arms so that Uannve can hold her. \"Well enough,\" Muirgheal replies, and smiles in welcome. \"It\'s better than the cold, anyways. It reminds me that I\'m very much alive.\" She pushes a damp curl away that\'s been tickling her nose. Caoimhe is still squirming, and so the girl is thrust out toward Uannve. \"I suppose you ought to take her.\" The woman grins on the heels of her words. If Uannve does take the girl, it will give Muirgheal a moment to bend down and swiftly intercept her son, who is crawling slowly toward the paddock. \"Rowynne\'s house is /not/ safe for babies,\" she laughs. She doesn\'t mention her own house, or going back there anytime soon. She\'s only just out of her mourning clothes, after all everything in time.

\"I hate the heat,\" Uannve states. \"I\'d rather be shivering than sweating.\" A smile chances across her complexion at this familiar contradiction of theirs and as she takes Caoimhe. She rests the girl to her chest, so that Caoimhe\'s head is on her shoulder and her bottom atop her arm. Her other hand rests against the girl\'s back.

\"That\'s an adoreable skirt,\" Uannve murmurs softly, abstractly taking her remaining hand from Caoimhe\'s back to briefly brush at her own bangs again. She takes a step back so as not to impede Muirgheal\'s retreival of Elfaroth and meanwhile looks Muirgheal over a good while. \"Gosh, that really is a cute outfit,\" she reiterates. \"Did you make it yourself?\"

Muirgheal\'s eyes catch and hold Uannve\'s for a moment in the shared memory. A smile ghosts across her lips. Then she sees her daughter. Although the girl may like Uannve, it wasn\'t the woman that she desired with her happy cries and reaching arms. Caoimhe has grabbed the yellow ribbon at the shoulder of Uannve\'s dress, and is hastily pulling it loose and trying to put the ends in her mouth. They\'re an interesting texture to chew. \"Er. I hope she\'s not too heavy for you.\" The children are getting rather bigger all the time, and between their ever present need for new clothing and their constant crawling away, Muirgheal has her hands full.

Muirgheal is in the process of wiping dirt off her son\'s clothes. What Uannve says, however, causes her to look up, clearly surprised. Then she starts to smile. \"I have a lot of time, in Rowynne\'s house. I cook for her family, but when I\'m not doing that...I had her get a few things from the market in Bree. Just leftovers. I worked on it every night after Caoimhe and Elfaroth went to sleep. It\'s only just been finished.\" She twists this way and that, showing it off, the lace and the very many colors, designs and pieces put nicely together. She\'s trying to be humble, but seems rather proud at the compliments.

Uannve has a gentle smile upon her face as she watches Muirgheal give off the various perspectives of her dress and all that it is made up of. \"I love the patchwork. It\'s so simple, and yet--it\'s just perfect.\" Uannve admires Muirgheal a few more long moments, blissful of Caoimhe\'s attempts to gobble down her ribbon.

\"Oh hey,\" she suddenly says, noticing Caioimhe\'s distraction then. It may now be obvious Caoimhe is heavier than anything Uannve is used to lifting, as she has to lean back a good deal to allow her hand formerly on Caoimhe\'s back to try to pass over the top of the little girl\'s head. She whimpers, murmuring, \"My ribbon!\" Yet Uannve is still smiling. Unable to safetly steal back her ribbon, Uannve instead decides to shift Caiomhe on her chest slightly, taking her beneath the arms from both sides and moving her to the center of her chest, just beneath her own chin. Uannve is slim-shouldered though, and the ribbon is long, and potentially still held.

Unlike Uannve, Muirgheal is keeping a careful eye on her daughter. \"Caoimhe, please! The things that amuse you..\" she shakes her head, but she\'s quietly laughing. That is, until the lady notices how heavy a burden the girl is in Uannve\'s arms. \"You can put her down,\" Muirgheal offers. She\'s used to the weight, quite comfortable holding on to the even larger Elfaroth. As for Uannve\'s ribbon, it\'s holding up between the girl\'s tiny teeth. It\'s just a darker shade of yellow with spit.

Nearby, Aurlalaith whinnies, and Muirgheal exclaims, \"Have you met my mare, yet? I think she\'s already tired of Bells\' goats.\" Another problem yet to be addressed: where will her horse be kept? Not in Bree, not anywhere so far that Muirgheal can\'t keep an eye on her most of the time.

\"Your mare?\" Uannve asks, not looking up yet even as Aurlalaith whinnies. Uannve is intent upon trying to get her ribbon free, but it\'s a little hard. Caoimhe still has the ribbon when Uannve does look up. And then Uannve is caught staring at the mare for a while.

\"Muirgheal,\" she whispers, \"you remember how rare one of these is in Dunland don\'t you? Well,\" she adds quickly, \"not in your clan necessarily, since Wulf bred them. But all of the Stag and Bear clan only had a handful each,\" her smiles fluctuates, \"and _you_ have your own?\" Her eyes shift to Muirgheal with a hint of envy and admiration.

\"Rhifaroth\'s doing?\" Uannve asks. She begins bouncing Caoimhe, capable of dealing with the girl\'s weight so long as she keeps it right close to her own body and her back arced back to counter.

Caoimhe is quiet, at least, as she chews on Uannve\'s bit of lovely ribbon. And while Uannve\'s gaze is for the horse, Muirgheal\'s eyes are on the dress and ribbon, and she apologizes, \"I\'ll be glad to buy you a new ribbon if that one is ruined.\" What Uannve says causes the golden haired lady\'s eyes to spark. \"Yes, she is mine. By her choosing,\" she is quick to add, with a glance at Aurlalaith. \"Her name...in common, it\'s \'morning laughter.\' I should like to see the faces of those,\" here a curse word is slipped in Dunael, \"cowards in Dunland, if I rode up there with Laith.\"

But it\'s Uannve\'s last that snatches the smile and color from Muirgheal\'s face with one word: Rhifaroth. Suddenly she looks sad again. \"Well, no.\" Is the quiet reply. \"Aurlalaith and I met in the valley,\" she whispers, careful of that topic and the trouble it\'s caused. Somewhat louder now, \"She was a gift from my friend Rochwen, who is here in Archet now. No doubt you\'ll meet her soon.\" Muirgheal doesn\'t want to make Uannve feel poorly over a question, however, and she asks, overbright, \"Those piercings in your ears...did you do them yourself?\"

Uannve is quiet and a solemn for a while, her eyes on Caoimhe, though it\'s not obvious just which part of Muirgheal\'s words or reactions have instilled this. All questions are ignored momentarily when Uannve softly tells Muirgheal, \"You\'re wealthier than all the Captains of Dunland.\"

Uannve has given up on getting her ribbon free of saliva just now and lifts Caoimhe level to her face in order to give her precious forehead a kiss. She gives her three: one to the forehead, nose, and cheek. Her arms and back require she lower Caoimhe back to her chest after this though. \"It\'s fine,\" Uannve says, \"I\'ve never had anything really nice for long anyway.\" She doesn\'t seem the least bit aggitated.

\"Aurlalaith,\" Uannve repeats softly, butchering the name. She turns toward Muirgheal. \"My ear totems show through my hair?\" she asks. They do sometimes, especially in bright light, their darkness catching it oddly as they dangle. She reaches up to her ear to touch a totem and in the process easily manages to slip the ribbon from Caoimhe\'s mouth, though it leaves the girl without an easy distraction.

Wealthier than...the words ring in Muirgheal\'s ears. They earn her silent contemplation until, after several moments of looking down at Elfaroth\'s sweet face, she agrees, \"I suppose I am.\" She smiles, but only for a moment, remembering who has been missing from their family, a tattooed, scarred face she may never see again. \"Elfaroth\'s eyes are like his, I think.\" The thought becomes words almost before she realizes it. She watches Uannve play with Caoimhe. \"Rhifaroth would like to see how well you get on with our daughter.\" The words stick in her throat a little, but she gets through it.

\"Aurlalaith,\" Muirgheal corrects softly, welcoming the distraction. She answers Uannve with a shake of her head. \"No, they don\'t show, but I\'ve seen them before. Rochwen has these earrings that she showed me...bits of shiny glass. Only I don\'t have any place to put them.\"

Uannve\'s hand goes from her totem earring to her bangs, brushing at them in silence. Muirgheal\'s words have again bestowed this upon Uannve. It might be worthy of note that in direct opposition to Uannve\'s prior words of not having \'had anything really nice for long\', her simple but priceless, silver bracelet dances with sunlight as she brushes at her bangs also, on the grass, her longsword, another rarity in Dunland, stays wrapped, jutting out of her pack.

Uannve returns her hand back to aiding her other in supporting Caoimhe better against her chest. \"We can make places for them,\" she suggests, looking at Muirgheal from the corner of her eyes briefly, teasingly as a smile shows. She then glances fully at her. \"Can\'t say it won\'t get infected though for a while and occasionally after.\"

The silver bracelet throws light into Muirgheal\'s dark eyes, and drawn to it, the lady puts a hand lightly on Uannve\'s forearm, fingers resting near the bracelet. \"What\'s that bit of pretty?\" She\'s never asked before, though she\'s seen it, but this peaceful and idyllic- if overly warm- day seems the perfect time. She takes her hand away then, needing it to help shift Elfaroth over to her other side. Even she gets a little tired, but doesn\'t want her son to crawl over to the goats he\'s been eyeing. She has a feeling it wouldn\'t end well if he met them on his level.

One hand frees itself to touch her bare earlobes. \"You...know how to do that?\" Muirgheal winces at the idea of an infection. \"Well, Rochwen\'ll have things for that. She is a healer, after all.\" Is she warming to the idea?

\"I\'ve done it before,\" Uannve admits, glancing to Muirgheal after she reaches up to her earlobes. Her eyes stray down to the bracelet and then to Muirgheal again. \"It was a gift from a girl I met at the Shepherding Village before I knew you,\" she tells. The simple answer might suggest Uannve doesn\'t know it\'s true value, though it is finer than any other jewelry she wears by far, so she might.

Uannve, arms and the small of her back tiring, seeks to sit down, and does so easily on the grass, easing to her knees first before settling to her rear. Instead of sitting though, Uannve drifts on back carefully, so that her back comes to rest against the ground and Caoimhe on her chest. Her knees, pressed together, remain bent up in the air and her bare feet angled apart on the grass. Though in a knee-length skirt that suddenly slips further up her legs, Uannve doesn\'t seem to mind in the mere presence of Muirgheal and around the back of the house where her dear old friend trusts her own valuable horse to be stabled.

A long, considering look is given to the silver bracelet. \"It looks...elvish. Like some jewelry I saw in the valley. What was a girl from the Shepherding Village doing with such a token?\" It\'s most an idle question from Muirgheal. Not wanting to have to look down at Uannve every time they speak, the golden haired lady follows suit and settles in the grass that\'s slightly wilted under the hot sun. She carefully manuevers down, though she sets Elfaroth beside her. It\'s easy now that he can sit unsupported. He is content to look at the goats milling around, so cautious of Aurlalaith\'s sharp hooves that they give the mare a wide berth. \"Would you do it for me, then? Tomorrow? Well, if it won\'t hurt too terribly much, and if Rochwen is there to supervise...\" She bites her lip, worries at it, until the skin is swollen and lush. She waits for a reply as she lounges, head tipped back, face to the sun.

Uannve doesn\'t answer briefly as she holds Caoimhe directly above her, making noises up at her that only mothers and those that love children freely can do. She brings Caoimhe down closer for another kiss. Her arms don\'t last long like this and she settles the girl back to her chest and the nook of her neck.

\"I could,\" Uannve agrees, turning her head atop the grass so she can glance toward Muirgheal. Already some of the drier, dead grass clings to her hair. \"Elvish?\" Uannve asks, lifting her wrist and looking to the bracelet, squinting as the sun catches it just right.

A child\'s delight is often easy to earn, and Caoimhe is no exception, making delighted noises at Uannve that cause Elfaroth to turn his head, watching his sister instead of the goats. \"Okay then,\" Muirgheal agrees, letting out a rush of breath. Perhaps she\'s a little nervous about it. \"Tomorrow it is.\" Her eyes return to the bracelet, and she gives a quick nod, golden curls bobbing with her head. \"Elvish, yes, I\'d be fairly certain.\" Her eyes move to Uannve\'s face, curious now.

Uannve runs her hands up and down Caoimhe\'s back, as if tickling or massaging with her fingers in rapid little circles as Caoimhe rests yet on her chest and she on her back. She meanwhile also keeps her torso tipping just slightly from side to the other to keep the child in motion. She seems to be enjoying herself just as much as Caoimhe was prior. And then she picks the child up again and thrust her up into the air above her.

\"Don\'t worry, Muirgheal,\" Uannve says softly, picking up on one thing or another, \"it only hurts for a while.\" She smiles decidedly. \"We\'ll need something sharp though, and something to brace behind them, like a knife and some bark or wood, something for the skin to press against so as not to move.\" \"You are so cute! Yes you are!\" Uannve coos up at Caoimhe, lifting her up and down and making other interesting, cooing noises. \"I had mine done with very sharp, narrow stones against the same--well, other flat stones that is.\"

Muirgheal chews on her lip some more, and sits up straight when Uannve starts to list the required ingredients in what could be a recipe for disaster.  \"Right, what\'s a little pain..\" She begins, sarcasm thick in her voice.  Then she begins to think, as she often does, of what might have been her husband\'s fate, and she makes no further joke.  \"Wood and a knife?  Well, I suppose that makes sense, yes...\" Muirgheal looks as though she may be ill.  Could the thought of her own blood bother her?  Or is it the idea of having this done with stone against stone?  \"I think we\'ll use my dagger,\" she decides, unable to keep frowning for long when Uannve is making such fun noises at her daughter.  She\'s keeping a careful eye on her son, but watches the pair delightedly.

Uannve brings Caoimhe down to her lips and kisses her several times again. Her smile is full when she says freely, \"I\'m glad you did what you did, Muirgheal. I\'m glad you had kids.\" She\'s smiling, head turned again aside at Muirgheal as she settles Caoimhe back to her chest, arms tired. She looks content. \"I really am.\" Her smile couldn\'t bear witness to this any better than it does, and surely, the light of Uannve\'s eyes is returned. \"Thanks for including me,\" she adds coyly, smiling briefly more at Muirgheal before looking up at the cloudless sky and exhaling decidedly. She reverts to just holding Caoimhe to her.

\"How could I not include you?\" Muirgheal answers with a question. She is very glad to have a friend in Uannve again it shows on her face, which has been tipped up into the sun yet again. Contentedly, she keeps Elfaroth from the goats and Aurlalaith, and tries not to think about the finer details of ear piercing for the rest of the afternoon.