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Vyn

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Seven and something years ago​

The Road further south had been uneventful by Elum standards. Bad weather and broken wheels, two horses and a goat gone lame – none worthy of a story. Until they came upon Gordar's Rest. Never been much to look at. Just a patch of empty by the roadside, long and lazy grass, trampled and kept in check once a year. Hill stood at attention to the west. A good place to see the stars when the sky was agreeable. Never bore a marking beyond the feet and wheels that looked forward to it. Just soil, wind, and a hush of Road.

But all Wagons knew this story.

It had been over three hundred years since his Wagon had first rested there. Knew the stop became tradition. Because they remembered. So when time came to settle in, it was to air of fanfare and celebration.

People milled about with a thousand different purposes, lanterns hung up and Wagons painted. Evening promised to be eventful.

Felt like it may have been only yesterday that Xen arrived to join them, but Vyn knew it'd been longer. Weeks, or maybe months. Sometimes time was hard to keep track of on the Road. Some days you knew for the Wednesdays they were, others you wouldn't believe for a Sunday without someone telling you so. Similar things had a habit of growing closer together until they fused and became time spent. Theirs was spent traveling together.

And now it was to be different.

There wasn't a need to tell anyone yet. Not because it was a secret, but because Wagons often knew things without ever being told. Suspected Jem knew too. Her tasks had been getting easier lately. No one had asked her for help in setting up the tents. Sounded like a thing silently agreed to, without her ever needing to explain. Wasn't even sure it was really happening, until they started offering her more food out of the blue. It was only a step or two away from more obvious things.

And even if she didn't know where it came from, she wasn't worried. Because the correct name might help nail down the moment, but it didn't define a family. Everyone born to the Wagons belonged. Xen herself was living proof that it didn't even need to be by blood or birth. One only had to share the Road, and the Wagons would share the rest. It meant having many mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers. Bunch of annoying cousins and overcurious neighbors. Meant being part of a community. And Vyn knew all of this.

It still didn't make her feel at ease. Because this wasn't a story she'd been cast in before. Hearing it told and living it were different things.

Enough time had passed to where Xen no longer needed to sleep in her Wagon. They'd found and repurposed an empty one. It used to belong to... Vyn couldn't remember. That bothered her. Still knocked.

„Xen, you around?“
 
By Elum standards, life was proceeding as normal. Or rather the Road was, with all its twists and turns and occasional bumps. Xenovia wasn't sure she felt the same way. Yet. Still, it's a nice day out. The Deva appreciated that much about this new life she had chosen for herself, or at least played a part in picking.

They had passed through Akkelon a month back, and with Vyn and Jem for company, she had shared a teary-eyed reunion with her parents. Much-needed, it had been. Brief, too.

I am still a danger to them, no matter what my hopes might be. There were many miles between Akkelon and Crown's Hold. But misdeeds knew no muscle strain, and her deeds were darker than most. I should confide in Vyn one of these days, Xen told herself, perched on the back of her wagon, like a queen sat upon her throne. It wasn't much, but it kept nature out, and gave her and her newfound friends a place to congregate and nap in relative comfort.

Which reminds me, I need to find more pillows.

A knock at wagon's side had Xen rolling towards the springboard at the back, the voice accompanying it speeding along her efforts. 'For you? Always!' Poking her head out, Xen smiled at Vyn, all sharp teeth and glowing eyes. 'What can I do you for?'
 
Elum were known for the old threemoment trap. First they made you feel welcome. Sense of safety came next. By the third... you were already one of them. As Vyn looked at Xen, she wasn't sure they'd gotten there yet – but moments were flexible measurements. They had all the time in the world, or near enough.

„My my – didn't know I was so well regarded.“ Full of shit is what she was. Of course she knew. Nothing wrong with being liked.

Didn't wait for an answer.

„I've come to spirit you away.“ Xen never struck her as shy, but Rest festivities were known to get overwhelming to people unused to them. And Xen wouldn't be missing her chance to join – not if Vyn had any say in the matter.

'Sides, a night of drinking was a whole lot better than one of terrors. She couldn't rightfully know if Xen's sleep had gotten better. But she could worry.
 
Xen narrowed her eyes, like a sceptical spouse in one of those big theatre productions. 'Sure you didn't,' she replied, 'and I'm the King of Altalusia.' Hopping down from the Wagon, the Deva waltzed her way over to Vyn's side, feet spinning a yarn that her lips couldn't quite remember.

'Oh? And, uh, where is it you plan on spiriting me off to?' She asked, curiousity clipping her voice. 'Will there be tea involved? Wine?'

The mood around camp was eclectic. Lots of laughing faces and whispered plans. Apparently, from what she'd been able to glean from her not-so-tight-lipped neighbours, there was a celebration coming. Though, the reason for said celebration was anybody's guess. Did they even need one?

Linking arms with Vyn, Xen smiled, let her eyes assess her friend's condition, as if it weren't a secret agreed upon. The worry lines did Vyn no favours. But she would be okay - Xen planned on making sure of it.
 
„That would explain the moustache comin' in.“ A jab normally followed by a finger to the ribs, but she abstained. Didn't want to get stabbed in turn.

„Only proper water for a celebration is storywater, Xen.“ Seemed strange to Vyn that some people chose to be sober through celebrations. Suppose she'd done it herself here and there. But holidays were not meant to be times of discipline. That would come with the next morning's hammerhead.

And where were they going?

Well... she'd never thought that far. Wanted the other woman out of her shell..er..Wagon – but that's as far as her plans went. So mission accomplished, but she still needed to make sure her friend had fun. It wasn't very Elum to allow guests to attend shit parties.

„You met Gordar yet?“ He'd probably be hiding from all the partying people. Maybe far as the hill that stood watch. Didn't stea...secure a bottle for no reason.

Hic, up and away!
 
Xen laughed, reaching to run a clawed thumb across her upper lip. 'Thank you for noticing,' she grinned, contemplating digging an elbow into Vyn's ribs, then deciding not to. The bump in Vyn's robes was reason enough.

'Gordar? No. But I've met Gordon and Gordey if that helps.'

They were a mixed bunch, were the Elum. Southlanders and Altalusians. Devahni and orkin and humans. Big drinkers all, though some were bigger than others. The dwarves in particular had a habit of drinking on the go. Helps them drive better, apparently. Xen was still getting used to the whole thing. Nomad life had its ups and downs much the same way city life did. Only difference being out here her sense of freedom wasn't imagined.

'You, uh, met Gordar yet?' Xen asked, trying on her jester's motley.
 
„Your funny ass is in for a treat, then.“ Wasn't that good a joke, but fostering confidence was important. Everyone had to be a fuckup before they got to be a grownup. Much the same with skills. And whoever thought humor wasn't a skill... well, they were just shit at it.

Dug into her robes and pulled out the bottle. Wasn't happy with the bump leftover. At least she could tell herself it was all from the wine before. Sure had gotten fat. But that was life – win some, lose some.

„Right. Take this.“ Held the bottle out. Open invitation for driving lessons. In the proper, runic way, of course. „He'll be further up.“

Wondered how far they could get before she'd need to make an excuse to sit down and look at the stars or somesuch. Apparently, swollen ankles were a thing now. Whoever cooked up the deva had clearly halfassed it.

Used to think there were few things worse than saddleass, but live and learn.
 
Xen didn't know where they were going but that was okay. Vyn was the trustworthy sort. Most Elum were, assuming you were Elum, too. Or a stranger lost in the snow. Xen would ever be grateful for that, so long as she didn't lose her marbles somewhere along the Road. Memory was a fickle thing, easily replaced, but difficult to hold onto.

'This ain't a peace offering, is it?' Gordar. Sounded like a bruiser's name. Big, bad Gordar the Destroyer. Sat on top of a hill, staring off into the distance, like some wizened greybeard whose knees had yet to give out.

Vyn's didn't look far off. Pregnancy was taking a toll on the poor dear, and Xen couldn't help but feel for her friend. Made her want to soothe, to protect a life not yet hatched. A guardian for the mother-hen-to-be. She couldn't help but wonder where the father might be, or who he might be. Why he'd run off and leave Vyn to raise the child all by her lonesome. Not that she would ever be alone, surrounded by clan and company, and a few stray hangers-on who'd yet to make the Wagons theirs.

'We're not going to meet another Jem, are we?' Xen asked as they neared the hill's summit. 'I'm more than happy doing the talking, but it gets kinda awkward when they don't talk back, like, ever.'
 
Like clockwork, her feet no longer wanted to do their jobs halfway up the pass. Vyn disliked how predictable this weakness was. How she knew it was coming every time and could do nothing to better prepare. You were simply meant to endure. And it wasn't in her nature to think that way. But she was learning.

„No, Gordar is, uh...“ Well, she wasn't quite ready to explain. Never would be, seemed like. „You'll see.“

„And worry not – far as tightlipped goes, he aint all Jemmed up.“ Plopped her ass down unceremoniously into the grass. „Right. A breather.“ Squinted at the other woman.

„You made any friends, yet?“
 
It wasn't that Vyn couldn't answer her. On the contrary, she quite liked talking, at least to Xen. No, no, this was just one of those not-so-rare moments where she couldn't be arsed to explain. "You'll see" was starting to become her catchphrase.

'Alright, then. Keep your secrets,' smiled Xen, halting alongside Vyn as she took a seat in the grass.

'Friends? Why, of course I have!' Xenovia replied in mock indignation, folding her arms against her chest. 'There's you and Jem. That's two!' Pausing, she picked her brain, searching for names learnt but hardly remembered. 'Then, there's Todd and Mikael and Jenna. Five! Once I win Gordar over, I'll have as many friends as you do,' she grinned, revelling in a victory neither of them had really won.

'Anyways, when're you gonna stop worrying about me and start thinkin' about yourself?' Xen wondered aloud, sitting down next to Vyn in the shivering grass.
 
Scooted over slightly, like the wide field of grass was lacking seating for Xen. She could call that an ass joke that both did and didn't contain asses. Good story for the fire when the drinks were still tipped and people were on the way to tipsy.

Nodded at the five, hint of suspicion in her eyes. Didn't worry about Gordar liking her – of course he would – but worried about all those other names. Guess you could always count on Jem as a friend...just not as a friendly.

„Worrying about me?“ Pulled the smile wide, revealing a stuck bit of lunch in the back teeth. „Living the life. Assin' the grass. What more do I need?“
 
'A strong Deva to carry you everywhere?' A joke or an offer, Vyn could be the one to decide. 'Your little feetsies could do with the rest, and I with the exercise.' Maybe she hadn't been blessed with a goddess' physique, but she was loth to lose what muscle she did have wasting away in the back of a Wagon.

'I did warn them not to leave the cook pot unattended. Now, look at you!'

Shaking her head sadly, Xenovia smiled, let Vyn know she wasn't being serious with a bump and a brush. Sweeping her hair behind an ear, she gazed out over the scenery, hands drawing knees to chest as she thought about the Road they had taken to get to where they were now.

'I don't mind carrying you,' said Xen, serious now. 'Your pride might suffer some. But your ankles'll thank ya.'
 
A good laugh at that. And a gentler touch at Xen's hand. Smacked her thighs with firm resolution:

„Pride?“ Would've spat at the ground at that. But she was never very good at spitting. It would only get stringy and dangle down her chin. Kinda hard to make your point when you were all drooled up.

Sides – this was a holy place, in its own way. No need to spit on it, regardless of success.

„I'm more worried about your back lugging all this blubber.“ Found the edges of the muffintops at her hips and jiggled them for added effect. Funny how even a loose robe could feel tight when not even your skin fit right.

„But if you're sure.“ She sure as Wagons wasn't saying no. „Giddy up!“
 
'Nonsense! I'll be fine!' Xen waved her friend's concerns away, smiling as she did. Best place for them was out in the big wide world. There, they wouldn't eat away at her, like those vultures the Pathlights had seen circling a few weeks back.

'I've had you over my shoulder before. Littler Vyn shouldn't be a problem.'

Course, that bump of hers presented a few problems, but Xen reckoned she could work around it. Maybe give Vyn a good laugh as well as a rest. Couldn't say she didn't deserve it. 'Yee-fuckin'-haw!' Grinning, Xen rocked her way onto her soles, stretched a little, as one ought to before lifting heavy- a friend who happened to weigh more than they used to. After all, it was only half Vyn's fault.

'Hope you're ready,' said Xen, squatting down to take Vyn in her arms. 'Things could get bumpy. No pun intended.'

Summoning her strength, back straight, Xen lifted, lips parting in a feral grin that touched her eyes and left her heart pounding. 'See!' She huffed. 'Light as a feather, though twice as ticklish!'
 
Xen huffed and puffed and...pulled it off. Not like Vyn really doubted the woman. But it was funny to see the strain. Used to be Xen could lug her around one handed. Not like she needed any other clear signs that she'd gotten big – they were already all around. In the squeak of the stool and Wagon. In the way Jem no longer lifted her up by the ribs. In the way her lump would catch on door handles or get singed by fires she wasn't otherwise touching.

Whoever made their bodies really should've made the little ones a backpack. Would've really improved the whole experience.

„The feather would tickle you.“ Fingers flexed and grin widened. „But it's afraid it wouldn't float when dropped.“

„Don't forget the booze.“ Sagely advice. „We'll need it up top.“
 
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