On Mount Alyppia

Homecoming

Gregor's gate was locked.

Arista banged on it twice in frustration. It didn't budge. Why was it locked? It was early, but no earlier than it was when she usually came. Gregor didn't keep a porter for the back door, since he was cheap and had Arista, and locked and unlocked the gate himself. There were people in the house, she knew, she could see the smoke rising from the chimneys and the kitchen. If the gate was still locked, then Gregor must have forgotten to unlock it. It wasn't like him to forget.

Arista got into the courtyard the long way, or the longer long way. She might have gone round through the servant's quarters, but she didn't want to run into cook. Instead she climbed the wall, gritting her teeth and scraping her knees, and went about her business as usual. She dragged one of the sword racks out of Gregor's workshed and sat on her barrel with a rag. Back to work.

About a half hour later the door opened, and a tall figure strode out, walking with a determined gait. Gregor was dressed up in court fashion, a jacket and tights and pointy-toed shoes instead of his usual fencing clothes. Almost as if he were visiting with someone. Gregor never went to any social events if he could help it, he hated people. And at this time of day...

"You still want me to do the swords if you don't have a student?" Arista called.

Gregor froze at the sound of her voice. His head whipped towards her, his eyes wide, and he stared. He was silent long enough for Arista to begin to squirm. Then finally, "Where have you been?" he breathed.

Arista shrugged, fidgeting, one hand snaking up to adjust her eye patch. "I-I'm sorry I skipped all those days, really, I... My eye," she said, gesturing, grasping wildly for words. "I lost a lot of blood, and I just... I couldn't've come. I needed rest, I mean. I wasn't awake, really, I..."

Gregor was moving forward, towards her, and Arista shrank back, flinching. But then Gregor was grabbing her shoulders, squeezing them tightly and looking right at her.

"Thank you," he breathed. "For what you did for Violetta." He looked quickly at her eyepatch, then back at her. "And for all it cost you." He squeezed her shoulders. It made Arista flinch.

Arista gave a quick, breathy nod, her gaze fixed on her lap.

Gregor frowned, letting go of her shoulders but not moving back. "I looked for you, for days. Scoured the city. Where were you?"

Arista shrugged, twisting her shaky fingers into the hem of her tunic. "Hiding. Healing." She scratched at her head. "I- I should- Should I finish the, um, the swords?"

Gregor seemed to study her for a long moment. "Are you well? Do you need more time to rest? I can send for a doctor..."

Arista shook her head quickly, scooting away slightly. Gregor seemed to notice, scooting back, giving her room to breathe.

"Well then," Gregor said finally, stepping back and standing up. "If you feel strong enough... finish the swords and go and get something for yourself in the kitchen. Tell me if cook gets stingy. I'll be away till past noon. Straighten my workroom and clean it if it needs to be cleaned." With that he was off, stepping straight into the street. Arista thought it odd that he didn't bother to saddle a horse, but Gregor was always odd.

Arista made quick work of the swords. It was harder with one eye, but she found she had missed the work, tedious as it was. She snuck cautiously into the kitchen when she was done, wary of cook's razor tongue, but the woman ignored her, turning her back on her to chop vegetables. Arista hesitantly grabbed a roll, then another. Then an apple. And a bit of cheese. And even a flaky pastry with a bite out of it that someone had left on a half-finished plate. Cook saw that, her shoulders stiffening, but she didn't say anything. Didn't shout or scold or sneer. Gregor must have spoken to her.