Work Text:
~Griffin
We returned from Threshold and quickly resumed normal life. Whyborne engaged a worker to repair the plaster in the kitchen, which he had scorched while experimenting with his blasted fire spell. I told him I didn't mind making the repairs myself, but he had insisted. I think it helped to assuage his guilty feelings, although I thought we had finished discussing my concerns about his little experiments before we left for Threshold.
The repairman arrived in the afternoon and after a few pleasantries, I showed him the work area and left him to it. So today I remained at home, working on my files and keeping Saul occupied, while said worker made the necessary repairs. It was still unseasonably warm in Widdershins, or perhaps the heat had gone and returned while we had been away. Either way, it was not a day to be spent indoors.
It was no surprise that late afternoon found me divested of suit coat and vest and my shirt clung to me something miserable. Also I was damnably out of sorts. Thank goodness the workman arrived at my office door about that time to let me know the job was complete and to give me a few recommendations on using a gas stovetop in the future. I took his well meaning advice as best I could, considering the heat, then showed him to the door, and hurried back to the kitchen to gratefully dunk my head under the faucet.
The coolish dousing of water went a ways to lifting my spirits, but though the afternoon was now closer to evening, the heat was still oppressive. I hurried back to the office to put away my files, returned to the kitchen briefly to grab dinner for Saul, and lured him out the back door. I placed his dish at the bottom of the steps and headed directly toward the ancient oak tree that made up the far right corner of the yard.
The results of time and insects has left its bark pockmarked, and a family of wrens had made a home in a hollow on its trunk. What drew me to this timeless, shady spot however, was the swing that hung from one large branch.
The swing preceded me. I don’t know if it was hung by dotting parents who wanted to give some giggling girl or boisterous boy a place for safe adventures, or if its origins lay with an enamored gentleman, hoping to please his lady fair. Or maybe, as Whyborne says, I’ve just been reading too much adventure fiction. The swing preceded me, but it could have been made for me, as integral to my life as it had become.
When I first moved to Widdershins and the fits invariably took me, I would finally come back to myself in the middle of the night with the need to know I was safe. When that had happened back in Kansas after Pa had rescued me from the asylum, I would spend the remainder of the night gazing up into the vastness of the starry sky. Those stars became my companions on the journey back from madness.
The first time the fits has taken me in Widdershins, I came back to myself and made my way out the back door. I needed a place to safely contemplate my starry companions, and the thick hedges surrounding the yard offered a wonderfully private viewing place. The swing provided a seat and the rocking was soothing. There weren’t as many stars in Widdershins as I had known on the Kansas prairie, but many of my old friends were still visible through the gaslight that kept Widdershins’ streets safe.
That first time turned into many as my mind adjusted to the workings of a strange town, a different house. I added a back to the swing so I could drop off to sleep without danger of toppling backwards. The fits slowed up, much to my relief. I had begun to worry about what i would do when winter finally came. Trudging out to the tree would not seem as appealing in the snow and the cold.
Then miraculously, Ival came into my life and everything shifted again. I no longer had to rush outside to count the stars. Instead, I came to count on Ival’s concern for me. One comparative philologist was equal to the entirety of the heavens. I grinned at that thought as I availed myself of the swing to cool down. Whyborne was precious to me, more precious than I could express. He had the vocabulary of 13 languages, yet he managed to take my breath away. Like I told him the day we returned from Threshold, I never knew what Love was till he came into my life.
My solace was no longer found in a thing, as wondrous as the heavens may be. Now my comfort was found in a person, a wonderfully understanding and caring individual who had turned my house into a home and stood by me when my demons tried to drag me straight to hell. Someone who might have lost track of time and perhaps have need of me to rescue him from his scrolls.
Thank goodness it had finally cooled off a bit. I could at last reenter the house to don my discarded garments, grab my sword cane and head out into the evening to battle Whyborne’s sphinxes and Pharaohs. Or I could at least help him to set aside his puzzles for the new day.