melo_annechen (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
melo_annechen) wrote2007-06-08 08:12 am
melo_annechen) wrote2007-06-08 08:12 am
Entry tags:
Betwixt the Planes, Chapter 4
Chapter Four
Marta was shivering, and heard someone calling her name from far off. Ah, of course, not the happy place, but the place of no feeling and no thought. Not satori, but a position of retreat. This will get me nowhere, but I fear going forward, and I cannot go back. Fear - there was definite fear in the voice calling her. Concentrating on the voice brought it closer. The voice was not quite familiar, but it carried a wealth of information in the tone. Behind the fear she heard concern that she was lost, worry for her well-being, and … a desire to serve? Of course, duty calls. She followed the voice out. “How - how long?” Her voice was raspy, but not entirely gone.
Augustus released his grip on her upper arms when he was sure she would not fall over. “Oh - I didn’t check the clock. It seemed to be hours.”
They had finished brunch at about noon. She glanced up at the clock and realized she had been in her anxiety-triggered trance for the better part of three hours. Long enough to miss her physical therapy session without calling ahead to reschedule, and on cue, the telephone rang. “Oh, framitz!” She crossed to the desk, picked up the receiver - “Hello?”, and winced at the harshness of her voice.
Sebo‘s voice radiated both relief and concern “That explains it. Are you okay? Do you need me to bring anything over?”
“I-I’m fine, Sebo. I’m sorry I missed my PT session. I, ah, I’ve had a rough day or two.” Marta was shaking; Augustus presented a chair for her to be seated, and then knelt at her feet.
“Look, I’ll be off work in about three more hours. I’ll bring tapas and dim sum, and we can at least go over the floor work. With you under enough stress to trigger an attack, you’ll need to work out the muscle tension.”
“Sebo, I have a - a guest.”
“You go, girl!” Sebo crowed. “Sounds like you have something to work off the tension, at least. I’ll drop off the oysters after work and leave you to it.”
“SEBO!” Marta blushed. “It’s not…” she looked at the phone as the dial tone kicked in. She replaced the receiver in the cradle and glanced at Augustus. “Um, how accurate is your hearing?”
“Accurate enough; I take it you do not wish to have me in the room when your therapist is here?” Augustus looked up at her from the floor, his expression neutral. “I could wait in the garage…”
Marta shook her head, “Too late, Sebo knows someone is here. He’ll be circumspect only if I answer the door en dishabille. Although it is tempting to embarrass him enough to let me skip the session…” Marta tapped her lips in thought. “Nope, not worth it; I skip, Sebo tells everyone I had a ‘special guest’, the entire circle will find excuses to ‘drop in and check on me’, and I still have to explain the whole arrangement to everyone. “ She sighed and put her head in her hands. “Right after I explain it to myself.”
“Ah. When you work that out, please let me know. I am not entirely sure of our immediate course of action, beyond regroup and research for the next step. I am afraid I did not plan much beyond surviving last night.” Augustus’ wings drooped again. “I am sorry for abruptly dropping this upon you.”
“No, you were guided here by something; we just have to figure out where each path leads before the next turning.” Marta stared at the clock a moment. “Sebo will not be here until after six, and we need to see if a map is available for the journey. I think I need to appeal to a higher power.”
Augustus‘s worry showed in his expression. “Are you able? Your - attack seemed to be rather draining.”
“Oh, no; we’re not going that high in the directory. I am definitely not going to be ready for circle for several hours.” Marta patted his shoulder. “On the other hand, we could call on one of the secret masters of the universe.”
“You have a librarian on call?” Augustus perked up at the possibility.
“Got it in one,” Marta picked up the telephone and dialed. “The timing is good, story time ended about an hour ago.” She paused as the line picked up. “Madame? It’s Marta. Sorry to bother you, but I may have stepped in something, and I need help determining the nature of the matter.”
“Merry met! I thought there was something up, but the weather wasn’t fitting the frames. Let me clear up here and I can be there in time for tea.”
“Yes, ma’am. I -” Marta’s eyebrows went up as she heard the dial tone. “What is it with people hanging up on me today? And where are you going?”
Augustus paused in his path to the kitchen, and turned to say, “To prepare for tea. Madame is touched by the Lady, and must be properly greeted.”
“You got that from a telephone connection?”
“I ‘got’ that from your body language. Although you were relaxed, your respect for her dictated your posture. Even though she was not present, you sat up straighter while speaking to her. Your posture while speaking to that young man, though he is your therapist, indicated a more casual relationship. He is your younger brother, perhaps?”
“No, but he was my protégé when he joined the working group.” Marta cocked her head quizzically. “That’s a very good reading for someone who met me less than 24 hours ago.”
“Spend enough time in encounter groups and psychologist’s offices and one is bound to pick up some of the material.” Augustus chuckled and continued to the kitchen. Marta followed, and was promptly seated at the counter by her guest. “No, you rest. You will have much to explain to Madame, and then your therapist.”
“Is this your polite way of telling me to stay out of your way?” Marta giggled. “I really shouldn’t let you take so much on in my behalf.”
“Not to worry - you have taken me in your home, the least I can do is see that your needs are met. Or rather, the ones I can answer.” Augustus briskly assembled cookie dough while waiting for the oven to heat. Marta marveled at his hand strength, for he seemed to have no trouble creaming sugar and butter straight from the refrigerator. “The knowledge I have of this plane is limited to certain areas, and most certainly is lacking in much of the modern crafts. I do have some basic computer knowledge, but it is far from marketable. While I might be able to use public transportation with some study, I have not learned to operate motor vehicles. I do not know if I can run errands for you, as I am not sure if the sanctuary is limited to your real estate or extends to items of your personal effects. My skills run to the - domestic.”
Marta rested her forehead on her fingertips. “I have an incubus for a butler. Grandmere will be thrilled.”
Augustus chuckled, “That’s a better title than houseboy, at least.” He finished placing the cookies on a baking sheet and put them in the oven. “You… are not on good terms with your grandmother?”
“What, you studied with Freud?” Marta said from behind her hands.
“Jung, actually,” he replied as he refilled the kettle and set it to boil. “You are evading the question. I will drop the inquiry, but will be open to discuss it later, if you wish.” Marta was saved from further comments by the driveway alarm chime. Augustus was startled, but when Marta did not react beyond going to the door, he relaxed.
She paused at the kitchen door. “Ah, Augustus? Could you give me a little time to prepare her before meeting you?”
“Not a problem,” he smiled back. “I need to finish the tea preparations, at any rate. I will wait here until you call.”
Marta proceeded to the door, and attempted to calm herself before opening it. “Good afternoon, Madame. Be welcome in my home.”
“Is that what you told the incubus?” Madame said as soon as she crossed the threshold.
Marta took her coat, having ceased being surprised at Madame knowing the score before she did. “No, ma’am, he was able to cross the wards that kept Keith out of the house.” She led them to the table.
Madame was impressed for about two seconds before her cynicism kicked in. “So, he’s more powerful than that skink.” It was normal for her not to use the names of those who displeased her, which meant Marta learned most of the insults she knew from Madame. “I hope you bound him as soon as he crossed the wards.”
Marta grimaced. “Well, not exactly. I wrapped him in Obaasan's quilt after he passed out in the living room. This morning, he swore an oath naming me his hlàf-ord."
Madame nodded, giving Marta a piecing look - “and then what happened?”
“I… think I completed the ceremony correctly, but I have never heard or read the words before this morning. Madame, I don’t know how, but I think I may have gotten into politics.” Marta sat in silence as she waited for the inevitable tirade.
The expected did not occur. “You know cross-planar politics is not the wisest course to take for a long life. But in this case, you were called.” Madame gave a small smile. “The Lord and Lady have never been easy on you, but you keep meeting or exceeding their expectations. Let’s meet your guest, then.”
Marta turned to the kitchen door “Augustus? Could you come out here, please?” She had another surprise as Augustus had found Mama’s tea service.
“Good afternoon, min hlàf-ord, Madame.” He placed the service before Marta and turned to the kitchen again.
“Gus? What have you gotten into this time?” Madame said in her ‘stern librarian’ tone.
He froze in place, and whispered, “Yrjänä?”
“It’s been a long time, Gus. Have a seat.” Madame Yrjänä said. “We have some catching up to do.”
Marta was shivering, and heard someone calling her name from far off. Ah, of course, not the happy place, but the place of no feeling and no thought. Not satori, but a position of retreat. This will get me nowhere, but I fear going forward, and I cannot go back. Fear - there was definite fear in the voice calling her. Concentrating on the voice brought it closer. The voice was not quite familiar, but it carried a wealth of information in the tone. Behind the fear she heard concern that she was lost, worry for her well-being, and … a desire to serve? Of course, duty calls. She followed the voice out. “How - how long?” Her voice was raspy, but not entirely gone.
Augustus released his grip on her upper arms when he was sure she would not fall over. “Oh - I didn’t check the clock. It seemed to be hours.”
They had finished brunch at about noon. She glanced up at the clock and realized she had been in her anxiety-triggered trance for the better part of three hours. Long enough to miss her physical therapy session without calling ahead to reschedule, and on cue, the telephone rang. “Oh, framitz!” She crossed to the desk, picked up the receiver - “Hello?”, and winced at the harshness of her voice.
Sebo‘s voice radiated both relief and concern “That explains it. Are you okay? Do you need me to bring anything over?”
“I-I’m fine, Sebo. I’m sorry I missed my PT session. I, ah, I’ve had a rough day or two.” Marta was shaking; Augustus presented a chair for her to be seated, and then knelt at her feet.
“Look, I’ll be off work in about three more hours. I’ll bring tapas and dim sum, and we can at least go over the floor work. With you under enough stress to trigger an attack, you’ll need to work out the muscle tension.”
“Sebo, I have a - a guest.”
“You go, girl!” Sebo crowed. “Sounds like you have something to work off the tension, at least. I’ll drop off the oysters after work and leave you to it.”
“SEBO!” Marta blushed. “It’s not…” she looked at the phone as the dial tone kicked in. She replaced the receiver in the cradle and glanced at Augustus. “Um, how accurate is your hearing?”
“Accurate enough; I take it you do not wish to have me in the room when your therapist is here?” Augustus looked up at her from the floor, his expression neutral. “I could wait in the garage…”
Marta shook her head, “Too late, Sebo knows someone is here. He’ll be circumspect only if I answer the door en dishabille. Although it is tempting to embarrass him enough to let me skip the session…” Marta tapped her lips in thought. “Nope, not worth it; I skip, Sebo tells everyone I had a ‘special guest’, the entire circle will find excuses to ‘drop in and check on me’, and I still have to explain the whole arrangement to everyone. “ She sighed and put her head in her hands. “Right after I explain it to myself.”
“Ah. When you work that out, please let me know. I am not entirely sure of our immediate course of action, beyond regroup and research for the next step. I am afraid I did not plan much beyond surviving last night.” Augustus’ wings drooped again. “I am sorry for abruptly dropping this upon you.”
“No, you were guided here by something; we just have to figure out where each path leads before the next turning.” Marta stared at the clock a moment. “Sebo will not be here until after six, and we need to see if a map is available for the journey. I think I need to appeal to a higher power.”
Augustus‘s worry showed in his expression. “Are you able? Your - attack seemed to be rather draining.”
“Oh, no; we’re not going that high in the directory. I am definitely not going to be ready for circle for several hours.” Marta patted his shoulder. “On the other hand, we could call on one of the secret masters of the universe.”
“You have a librarian on call?” Augustus perked up at the possibility.
“Got it in one,” Marta picked up the telephone and dialed. “The timing is good, story time ended about an hour ago.” She paused as the line picked up. “Madame? It’s Marta. Sorry to bother you, but I may have stepped in something, and I need help determining the nature of the matter.”
“Merry met! I thought there was something up, but the weather wasn’t fitting the frames. Let me clear up here and I can be there in time for tea.”
“Yes, ma’am. I -” Marta’s eyebrows went up as she heard the dial tone. “What is it with people hanging up on me today? And where are you going?”
Augustus paused in his path to the kitchen, and turned to say, “To prepare for tea. Madame is touched by the Lady, and must be properly greeted.”
“You got that from a telephone connection?”
“I ‘got’ that from your body language. Although you were relaxed, your respect for her dictated your posture. Even though she was not present, you sat up straighter while speaking to her. Your posture while speaking to that young man, though he is your therapist, indicated a more casual relationship. He is your younger brother, perhaps?”
“No, but he was my protégé when he joined the working group.” Marta cocked her head quizzically. “That’s a very good reading for someone who met me less than 24 hours ago.”
“Spend enough time in encounter groups and psychologist’s offices and one is bound to pick up some of the material.” Augustus chuckled and continued to the kitchen. Marta followed, and was promptly seated at the counter by her guest. “No, you rest. You will have much to explain to Madame, and then your therapist.”
“Is this your polite way of telling me to stay out of your way?” Marta giggled. “I really shouldn’t let you take so much on in my behalf.”
“Not to worry - you have taken me in your home, the least I can do is see that your needs are met. Or rather, the ones I can answer.” Augustus briskly assembled cookie dough while waiting for the oven to heat. Marta marveled at his hand strength, for he seemed to have no trouble creaming sugar and butter straight from the refrigerator. “The knowledge I have of this plane is limited to certain areas, and most certainly is lacking in much of the modern crafts. I do have some basic computer knowledge, but it is far from marketable. While I might be able to use public transportation with some study, I have not learned to operate motor vehicles. I do not know if I can run errands for you, as I am not sure if the sanctuary is limited to your real estate or extends to items of your personal effects. My skills run to the - domestic.”
Marta rested her forehead on her fingertips. “I have an incubus for a butler. Grandmere will be thrilled.”
Augustus chuckled, “That’s a better title than houseboy, at least.” He finished placing the cookies on a baking sheet and put them in the oven. “You… are not on good terms with your grandmother?”
“What, you studied with Freud?” Marta said from behind her hands.
“Jung, actually,” he replied as he refilled the kettle and set it to boil. “You are evading the question. I will drop the inquiry, but will be open to discuss it later, if you wish.” Marta was saved from further comments by the driveway alarm chime. Augustus was startled, but when Marta did not react beyond going to the door, he relaxed.
She paused at the kitchen door. “Ah, Augustus? Could you give me a little time to prepare her before meeting you?”
“Not a problem,” he smiled back. “I need to finish the tea preparations, at any rate. I will wait here until you call.”
Marta proceeded to the door, and attempted to calm herself before opening it. “Good afternoon, Madame. Be welcome in my home.”
“Is that what you told the incubus?” Madame said as soon as she crossed the threshold.
Marta took her coat, having ceased being surprised at Madame knowing the score before she did. “No, ma’am, he was able to cross the wards that kept Keith out of the house.” She led them to the table.
Madame was impressed for about two seconds before her cynicism kicked in. “So, he’s more powerful than that skink.” It was normal for her not to use the names of those who displeased her, which meant Marta learned most of the insults she knew from Madame. “I hope you bound him as soon as he crossed the wards.”
Marta grimaced. “Well, not exactly. I wrapped him in Obaasan's quilt after he passed out in the living room. This morning, he swore an oath naming me his hlàf-ord."
Madame nodded, giving Marta a piecing look - “and then what happened?”
“I… think I completed the ceremony correctly, but I have never heard or read the words before this morning. Madame, I don’t know how, but I think I may have gotten into politics.” Marta sat in silence as she waited for the inevitable tirade.
The expected did not occur. “You know cross-planar politics is not the wisest course to take for a long life. But in this case, you were called.” Madame gave a small smile. “The Lord and Lady have never been easy on you, but you keep meeting or exceeding their expectations. Let’s meet your guest, then.”
Marta turned to the kitchen door “Augustus? Could you come out here, please?” She had another surprise as Augustus had found Mama’s tea service.
“Good afternoon, min hlàf-ord, Madame.” He placed the service before Marta and turned to the kitchen again.
“Gus? What have you gotten into this time?” Madame said in her ‘stern librarian’ tone.
He froze in place, and whispered, “Yrjänä?”
“It’s been a long time, Gus. Have a seat.” Madame Yrjänä said. “We have some catching up to do.”
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