Your husband owns a great portion of land and I'm in his employment.
[The way the shadows go in the firelight it is like her hands are made of light and cut the shadows. It's only the contrast between her dark clothes and pale skin.]
I hold him in a respected regard. I've no reason to doubt his word when it's given. He is not the most tender nor sensitive of men. His love until now has been work.
[Which makes his union with the redheaded woman across the fire more interesting.]
[ She signs again, realizing her assumptions of her new husband were true. ]
"Four months."
[ He had offered a good dowery for her and held enough respect through his business that her family's name would continue to be respected back home. She had already caused enough of a stir marrying Clint like she had. ]
[Four months. And here she is on the other side of the world. Well. Frank merely nods and scoots closer to the fire to dry what he can of his clothes. Staying here on the beach is not ideal. At least the girls have layers and layers of clothes. The waves crash in the darkness.]
[ She sighs heavily through her nose, knowing she probably made the wrong choice for her heart. But her family deserved better respect and her daughter deserved a father. Her own selfishness had been served years ago.
While her mother looks back into the fire, Anya goes back to munching on the fish. She waits a mouthful before turning back to the man, ]
Me? I...used to sail on tallship. I served in the Navy and after I was a merchant. Fever took my family so I was adrift. I came to this island and... seemed as though I was meant to be here.
[The most brief, possibly most removed he has ever been from telling this tale. The sweet little girl doesn't need the trouble of his life's story when her own has just begun with it's own share of tragedy. May it end here, he hopes.]
[ Natasha shakes her head at Anya again, a warning not to ask more about that. With their own loss still so painfully felt, Natasha feels it important not to tread on this one for him.
(Even as it makes her feel worse for her treatment of him since they arrived on shore.)
Anya goes back to being silent until she can't stand it and has to ask: ]
Were you ever a pirate?
[ Natasha presses her mouth into a line and rolls her eyes. She really does take after Clint in most ways. ]
[He chuckles warmly. The fire crackles and the rest of the night is quiet. Not even the wind too loud this close to the shore. Or perhaps the waves are the loudest, most soothing of things.]
No, little miss. I was never a pirate. They are not good people.
[ She wrinkles her nose and goes back to eating her fish with a grumble, knowing better than to say how "boring" that answer was. But it's not long after she's eaten her fill that she's yawning wide and rubbing at her eyes.
Natasha pulls out the blanket from earlier and opens it up, clearing her throat to get her to come over. There's a hint of a voice there but it's cut-off and barely formed. As soon as Anya is close enough, her mother wraps her in the blanket and scoops her back up in her arms. The child falls asleep like that, Natasha cradling her like she were still a babe.
Thin pale fingers gently stroke the child's face lovingly, occasionally tapping on the skin as if the piano keys were there. It's one of the ways she shows affection to her daughter, still feeling sadness in her own heart that she can't express that love verbally. ]
[The two of them together like that, it's beautiful. Mother and child with the firelight dancing high still. Frank tosses the uneaten carcasses out of their little camp so as not to attract unwanted predators. His eyes feel heavy but he still looks at Natasha. Eyes blink slowly as he reminds himself that the night is long and not yet over.]
[ Natasha eventually looks over to him, feeling his eyes on her. Green meeting brown once again and she holds his gaze this time. She wishes she could apologize to him for her behavior, apologize for the loss of his family. She's not sure she would've survived if she had lost her daughter, too.
But there's no way to communicate with him, is there? He doesn't know signing and he can't read. There's this horrid wall between them. One of silence and an emotional distance greater than what is between two people in any normal instance.
[Her voice isn't something that one can hear. And there's no denying she has a spirit. Those green eyes are stormy and filled with so much. The language is unknown to him. So he can only look back.
Frank sighs and gives the fire a poke.]
Sleep now, my lady. I'll ensure no harm will come to you.
[He can only guess that that is mistrust in her steady gaze. A man may come and feed them both, he may build a fire but he is not her husband. What a fat lot men have done to her. So young and so much she's lived through.]
[ She waits until he looks back at her to shake her head "no". With one hand, she tries to tell him what she thinks. She points to him ("You") and then presses the topside of that hand to her cheek, tipping her head to rest on it ("sleep").
She then points to herself ("I") and then two fingers to her eyes before moving them to the space around them, dark where the fire can't reach ("will watch").
It's the best she can do with how limited their speech seems to be with one another. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
The little girl says: ]
"Why do you keep asking me that?"
no subject
I'm trying to give comfort to an uncomfortable situation. It's my duty.
no subject
"Why is that your duty?"
no subject
[The way the shadows go in the firelight it is like her hands are made of light and cut the shadows. It's only the contrast between her dark clothes and pale skin.]
no subject
"What kind of man is my husband?"
no subject
[Which is all true.]
I did not know he had a need or want for a wife.
no subject
"How long have you known him?"
no subject
[Not a big detail but still one. It's a working relationship he's painting.]
no subject
"What is your..."
[ Anya squints and Natasha uses a different word. ]
"...thought of him?"
no subject
[Which makes his union with the redheaded woman across the fire more interesting.]
You have been in contact long?
no subject
"Four months."
[ He had offered a good dowery for her and held enough respect through his business that her family's name would continue to be respected back home. She had already caused enough of a stir marrying Clint like she had. ]
no subject
I hope that life here suits you.
no subject
While her mother looks back into the fire, Anya goes back to munching on the fish. She waits a mouthful before turning back to the man, ]
Why did you come here?
no subject
[The most brief, possibly most removed he has ever been from telling this tale. The sweet little girl doesn't need the trouble of his life's story when her own has just begun with it's own share of tragedy. May it end here, he hopes.]
no subject
You had a family?!
[ But Natasha is quick to tsk at her daughter with her teeth, signing to her 'Don't ask such things!'. Anya just pouts in her mother's direction. ]
no subject
[And just for her he forces a smile before taking a bite out of his own crispy fish.]
no subject
(Even as it makes her feel worse for her treatment of him since they arrived on shore.)
Anya goes back to being silent until she can't stand it and has to ask: ]
Were you ever a pirate?
[ Natasha presses her mouth into a line and rolls her eyes. She really does take after Clint in most ways. ]
no subject
No, little miss. I was never a pirate. They are not good people.
no subject
[ Anya does not hide her disappointment in the whine. ]
But they have so many adventures and treasure! And tattoos! Why don't you have any treasure? Or do you? I won't tell!
no subject
[He still smiles at her and her enthusiasm.]
no subject
Natasha pulls out the blanket from earlier and opens it up, clearing her throat to get her to come over. There's a hint of a voice there but it's cut-off and barely formed. As soon as Anya is close enough, her mother wraps her in the blanket and scoops her back up in her arms. The child falls asleep like that, Natasha cradling her like she were still a babe.
Thin pale fingers gently stroke the child's face lovingly, occasionally tapping on the skin as if the piano keys were there. It's one of the ways she shows affection to her daughter, still feeling sadness in her own heart that she can't express that love verbally. ]
no subject
no subject
But there's no way to communicate with him, is there? He doesn't know signing and he can't read. There's this horrid wall between them. One of silence and an emotional distance greater than what is between two people in any normal instance.
At least, it feels that way. ]
no subject
Frank sighs and gives the fire a poke.]
Sleep now, my lady. I'll ensure no harm will come to you.
[He can only guess that that is mistrust in her steady gaze. A man may come and feed them both, he may build a fire but he is not her husband. What a fat lot men have done to her. So young and so much she's lived through.]
no subject
She then points to herself ("I") and then two fingers to her eyes before moving them to the space around them, dark where the fire can't reach ("will watch").
It's the best she can do with how limited their speech seems to be with one another. ]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)