triangularity | For lastvoyages-related threads

He wipes his face and takes a deep breath. "It's only been a few days," he says. "Just shy of a week."

He doesn't want to let her go, but he's aware of Silna hovering awkwardly nearby, and he steps back and turns toward his friend, gesturing her to come closer. "I promised she'd come," he says to her.

Silna has been watching the reunion with a mixture of happiness and uncertainty. Happy that Harry and Tris are together, of course, but uncertain, despite everything that both of them have said, of where she stands. She's afraid of being a burden. Afraid that she's an obligation. Nevertheless, she is very glad to see Tris—she remembers her kindness when Silna took Harry's place aboard the Barge—and when Harry steps aside, she goes straight to Tris and greets her with a kunik, and her smile is genuinely happy.

Tris hopes Silna isn't taken aback by the heat radiating from her, but leans into the kunik anyway.

"Will you come with us?" she asks. Tris hates being a burden too, and she hates being offered anything out of pity. She remembers how she felt in the beginning at Discipline Cottage, all sharp edges with no idea why anyone would be kind to her, sure that they'd change their minds soon enough. She knows better than to offer anyone a place unless she means it.

Harry turns to Silna.

"I know that this is a lot to ask. I know you'll be in a land you've never seen before, where Tris and I will be the only people you know. It's your choice."

Silna looks at both of them. She's been thinking about this for a long time, since she met Tris on the Barge, and has gone back and forth on it in her mind again and again. Some part of her thinks: no. She has a price to pay, she can't walk away from that.

And yet.

If Harry Goodsir can escape his demise, if he can find a new way and another life—if he can stop being held back by the harshest sense of duty, then surely she—who, as Harry has pointed out, was far more sinned against than sinning—can make a new fate for herself? Perhaps? It's frightening. She doesn't know what she'll do in a land that's warm and green, where she will need to learn a new language and dress in strange clothes, but if Harry and Tris are there, and if Tris's family is as good as she says—

Silna reaches for both their hands, and nods. Yes. Yes, she'll come.

Tris has plans for Silna. They'll be traveling home from Namorn at first, the ideal opportunity to work on languages together, and hopefully by the time they get home to Summersea she'll understand considerably more than she does now, and everyone will have learned a bit of sign language. Then once they're home, Silna can help Daja in the forge, Briar in the garden, Tris in the kitchen. If any of those suit her, so much the better. If not, they'll find something that does. Silna won't be cast adrift to fend for herself in a new place, or forced to sit idle because she doesn't know what to do.

She takes the other woman's hand and squeezes reassuringly. "Iris will take us to my brother and sisters. They are traveling, and we can go home with them."

The bus is parked nearby, and it will be a surprisingly short trip considering they're traveling between worlds.

Harry almost wants to faint with relief. Silna had been quietly equivocal for the last few days, and while he'd have accepted any other decision ... well, he's glad to know that she will not be alone.

She has some things she needs to bring. She wants her knife and tools—even if she doesn't need them where she's going, they're comforting. Her furs, the leather and canvas bag that Harry gave her to carry her things. The rest—the sledge, the tent, the last of her food, all that can stay behind. And perhaps befuddle an archaeologist in the future.

As they get on Iris's bus, she's the last on—she pauses a moment to look back at the severe beauty of the only home she's known. She'll miss it. And she is afraid. But she also trusts Tris and Harry and loves Harry ... and is willing to imagine a different life. And she will not miss the pain of the years since her father's death.

She mutters a prayer and blessing under her breath—a farewell to her father and to her family's helper spirits, to the land—and then she takes Harry's hand and steps aboard.

When they arrive at the little town just outside the Namornese border where she last left her siblings, Tris squeezes both of their hands reassuringly before leading the way off the bus and down the road toward the inn.

On the way, she's shown Silna Erskine's drawings of her siblings, Briar with his chin propped on his hands, which are covered in flowering tattoos, Daja with her many braids, bare-armed and muscled, working in the forge, Sandry bent over a sewing project. One picture of the four of them together, younger, sprawled on a thatched roof. At least they'll be recognizable, even if they're still strangers.

Briar, outside examining the inn's vegetable garden, turns when he senses Tris's approach. He raises his eyebrows and offers the trio a lazy wave. "Coppercurls, when you told us you were bringing home a husband I didn't think you meant tomorrow."

Tris grins. "You know I like efficiency," she replies briskly, never mind that it's been a lot longer than a day from her perspective. "Briar, this is Harry Goodsir, your soon-to-be brother-in-law, and our friend Silna. Silna and Harry, my adopted brother Briar Moss."

Harry lets the two of them get to know each other as they go, and he's pleased to see Silna comfortable in Tris's presence. Silna, for her part, finds herself drawn to Daja even unmet—partly from what Tris has told her about Daja's own history, and partly because the drawing reminds her of some of the women she admired among her own family group; even if metalworking was unknown amongst the Netsilik, the air of craft and competence is much the same.

After they disembark and as they make their way to the inn, Silna's eyes are wide as saucers. Harry was right; she's never seen this much green in her life and she finds the climate disconcertingly warm. But the people seem friendly—and Harry is there. At some point she takes hold of his hand; he gives her a reassuring smile.

Harry has seen Briar before thanks to the magic of the Barge, but he will hold off on assuming Briar remembers anything until proven otherwise. "Tris has told me much about you," he says, smiling as he offers his hand. "A pleasure to see you here at last."

Silna hangs back; she manages a friendly smile, but she's staying close to Tris and Harry for now.

"She showed us a bit about you. I always wondered what sort of man could compete with books and weather for her attention." Tris glares at him, but Briar only grins back. "A pleasure, Harry."

She takes one of Silna's hands when she notices the other woman hanging back, and tells her brother, "Silna lived in the arctic of Harry's world. We have new languages to learn, and she's never seen a garden before." In other words, this will be an adjustment, so be gentle.

She gestures toward the inn with her free hand. "Come meet my sisters?"

Tris knows Briar will come along out of curiosity if nothing else, and her instinct says to get introductions over with and then get settled into a private room so Silna doesn't have to deal with a press of new people and unfamiliar situations.any longer than necessary.

"My own sister always wondered if there was anyone who could draw my attention away from sea-creatures," Harry says with an amused sidelong glance at Tris, "and so I suspect we're very well matched."

Silna finds herself immediately holding Tris's hand very tightly and forces herself to at least try to relax. She nods. Lead the way?

Harry stays close behind them, happy to chat with Briar more if he's feeling talkative.

Tris knows without being told that Briar doesn't mind picking up more languages, so he doesn't even bother answering that bit. To Harry, he says, "Sea creatures, huh? Good thing Tris likes the ocean. Did she ever admit that she once tried to stop the tide, just to see if she could?"

She warns her sisters silently that they're coming. Daja, Sandry? Will one of you arrange a private room for us for the afternoon? I have guests, and one of them is a little overwhelmed. I don't want her having to deal with an entire common room full of people. She knows that if she leaves her mind open, both of her sisters will take a quick look, note Silna clinging to her hand and Briar and Harry's voices behind them, and take care of things.

"Are you hungry?" she asks Silna. Sandry will fuss, might as well let her fuss in a productive direction if Silna wants anything to eat. There's also making some warmer weather clothes to keep Sandry occupied, but that can wait until they've settled in and Sandry has had a chance to take measurements.

Hungry. She's been hungry for so long that she almost doesn't notice it anymore, but now that Tris mentions it, yes. She can smell food, qablunaat food, but far better than anything that Harry—bless him for trying—was ever able to provide aboard Erebus. She nods.

Meanwhile, Harry chuckles at Briar's comment. "She has alluded to it," he says, but his smile goes a little worried as he glances at Silna; he can see how tightly she's hanging on to Tris's hand. He trusts, however, that Tris knows what she's about, and is about to arrange matters accordingly if she hasn't already done so.

Sandry, see about something for Silna and Harry to eat, please? Something simple. She'll need something to wear in the warm weather too, but it can wait until after she's settled in. Daja, if she's too hot we might want to borrow some of your clothes. I don't think she's used to skirts, and mine wouldn't fit right anyway. It's strange, keeping a running conversation in her head simultaneous to the one she's having in person. It's been so long since she and her siblings let each other on a regular basis. But it's good to have that back.

"My sisters will get us something to eat," she promises Silna. "You're safe here."

"They'll be fine," Briar tells Harry. "Tris is better with people who are scared than she is with people in general, as long as they aren't scared of her. You probably noticed that already."

Silna smiles at the reassurance, and some of the anxiety falls away from her expression and posture, though she is also obviously starting to swelter in her sealskin clothing—suitable for a Nunavut summer, but much too warm for this climate. She follows Tris's lead while at the same time looking around at her strange new surroundings, taking everything in.

Harry never quite stops watching the women, even as he continues to talk with Briar. "Very early in our acquaintance," he says, "she had a somewhat unexpected look at ... at how troubled I was at the time." His gaze at Tris shows how much he still values her kindness then. "She did not turn away and she was the soul of kindness, and I think I must have begun to love her a little even then."

"I guess I don't need to give you the brotherly talk about all the things I'll do to you if you hurt my sister, then," Briar teases, seeing how smitten Harry is. "I'm very creative."

Tris turns to warn him over a shoulder, with a sharp grin, "Lay a hand on him and you'll find out how creative I am."

Daja and Sandry are waiting in the doorway to the inn, Daja with a bundle of clothes in hand, Sandry reaching out to hug Tris. "How long were you gone this time?" she asks as she pulls away, her gaze turning to the two newcomers.

"About six months. Daja, Sandry, this is Harry and Silna."

Harry has to laugh at Briar's not-a-shovel-comment. "Believe me, there's no danger of Tris coming to harm from me. And if there was, you would have to join an orderly queue of others who would be out for my blood as well."

He greets Daja and Sandry with a little bow and a handshake, and as he's saying how pleased he is to meet them properly at last, Silna smiles anxiously and eyes the clothes in Daja's bundle. She remembers what Tris told her about this woman, and perhaps that's part of the reason why she likes her immediately—but there's also just something about her presence, her air of competence, that Silna finds instantly reassuring.

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