Completed [Maiden District] I Can't Feel

[Sigrun Dominic]

The young girl was so frantic that she couldn't understand what the stranger was saying. She stared at her fingers as they lay spread on the dusty wooden floor, her scared blue eyes twitching to the beat of her swiftly beating heart. A pair of strong hands lifted her up her feet. Sigrun was far too exhausted to flinch, and allowed her limp body to be brought over to a chair. She sat there hunched for a moment as she eyed the things the man brought in. As her senses slowly returned to normal, she caught scent of the food. "You..." she trailed off, shocked from the kind gesture as the man returned from the bedroom and over to the table. He set out a sack of herbs and introduced them to her as tea. "I'll leave the rest of the bags to you to explore." His grin was infectious. Sigrun found herself bounding over to the table, rummaging inside them as the stranger walked into the bedroom. She eyed him through the entrance, smiling endearingly as she watched how he showed concern for her younger brother. Once he turned to return to the other room, she jerked her head over to the bags and brought out a bit of what he'd bought. "I can't get over how big your place is..." She looked over at him and saw his warm smile, and returned it. "You know how to cook?" She glanced down at the few items she'd taken out from the bags. A few choice meats, vegetables, and the cheese. "Oh," she opened her mouth, staring down at the food, "I don't, I mean, I just put things in a pot and... and..." Sigrun watched wordlessly as he moved more of the bags over to the table, emptying them out. "Look, this is all too much, I—" "I'm not good at cooking and your brother can't eat much so we'll stick to soup. What do you say?" The young girl stared at the man blankly. He smiled, and walked over to fill a pot with water. She stood still as he moved over to the hearth in order to hang it up and boil the water. Her cheeks flushed and her eyes began to burn with the hint of more tears to come. She was so touched. "Yes," she said softly, shakily, a barely audible whisper, "yes, that will be fine." She followed his movements with her glazed eyes, the way he strode across the room and around the kitchen as if the place was his. It wasn't invasive at all, it was... refreshing. Comforting. "I'm Ronan Dugal. We haven't been introduced," he held out a few carrots. Sigrun brought out a shaky hand and took them slowly. "S-Sigrun," she mumbled, stumbling with the first letter. "Cut those into pieces, if you will." "Right, right," she whispered, smiling as she turned her face away from Ronan in order to collect herself. She wiped her misty eyes, grabbed a knife, and began to cut. "The onions," she laughed nervously, offering a measly excuse for her show of weakness. She busied herself with the vegetables as Ronan brought a ladle to the burning pot in order to inspect the water. "I'll show you how to make the tea as well, once this is a little warmer." The young girl grinned at the beginning of his sentence. "It's been a while," she blurted out softly.

[Ronan Dugal]

He grinned at her. The onions. He hadn't heard that one before. Usually people went with something being stuck in their eye when they were crying. "It's been a while for what, Sigrun?" Ronan asked, curious as to what she meant by it. He inspected the cut vegetables for a moment, waiting for the water to heat up. Nothing he could do to speed it up. If only there was some sort of way to make the fire warmer. You know, just turn a button and poof warmer fire. But for now Ronan was stuck with this normal fire, which was also quite hot. Time passed, Ronan sat in silence as he watched the flames heat the water. After a few chimes he got up and tested the water once more. "Alright, this seems fine. Not too hot for the patient but hot enough for making tea." He scooped up a cup full, careful not to burn his fingers, and placed the cup on the table, where the herbs were waiting. "It's simple, really. You put the herbs on a sift, if you have one, or on a piece of clean cloth if you don't have one." He showed her by taking a piece of cloth, inspecting it for any dust and putting it over another cup. He placed a few of the herbs on it. "And now you just pour the water over it, slowly. Then you swap cups and do it over and over again until the water is greenish. The more you do it, the more it will taste like the tea and less like water. It's best to do it a few times." He demonstrated by pouring the water from one cup into the other, through the cloth and herbs. When the cup was empty he switched them around and repeated the process. The water had a slightly greener tint to it when he poured it for the second time. "You give it a try, Sigrun." He pushed the two cups, one with the half-tea liquid and the other with the cloth over it, towards Sigrun. He watched her for a moment before going back into the bedroom. While the girl was making the tea, he would have another look at the boy. Soaking the cloth from his forehead back in the cold water and wringing it out until it was just damp, he sat next to the boy on the bed, making sure to move slowly so the dog wouldn't perceive it as a threat. He dipped the cloth on the forehead and cheeks of the boy and rubbed it over his throat and the part of his chest that was exposed. He dipped it in the water a second time and wrung it out again, leaving it a little wetter than before and placed it on the forehead of the boy. He made sure he was comfortable in his bed and well tucked it. "You wouldn't want to leave your sister alone now, would you?" The boy stirred and mumbled something Ronan couldn't quite understand before slipping back into his fever sleep. A soft pat on the boy's shoulder and Ronan stood up again to check on Sigrun.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"It's been a while for what, Sigrun?" Ronan's words echoed in her ears as she paused from her cutting. The onions really were stinging her eyes now, causing them to tear more than she wanted them to. Time seemed to stop as the young girl froze still and thought deeply about what she was going to say next. "It's been a while since anyone cared to teach me anything." She wanted to open up to the man, to reveal all her secrets and burdens, to release all the tension that had been building up inside of her since her mother passed, since her father left them, since Francis disappeared, and since she was left to take care of her younger brother alone. He felt so easy to talk to, so comfortable to be around that the young girl's mind was almost fooled into believing that he was a member of her family. But she said nothing. She resumed her cutting and remained silent, albeit attentive, as Ronan began to demonstrate how to make tea. She suppressed an excited smile when he offered for her to try it out herself. With shaky hands, she nervously attempted the same procedure. She put the herb-covered cloth over the empty cup and gently strained the water from the other cup inside of it. She felt his eyes on him, and somehow, a small part of her wished to impress him, to make him proud of her, and to have him admit to it. She shook the silly thoughts away as he moved over to the bedroom once more. "You fool," she scolded herself, "that is not your father. Or your mother, for obvious reasons, and you have nothing to prove to him." She brought the tea over to the bedroom and watched, her heart melting at the sight, as Ronan cared for her younger brother. No amount of scolding herself was helping her suppress her childish emotions. "You wouldn't want to leave your sister alone now, would you?" His words stung her, first in the heart and then to the eyes as another round of tears sprang out. Quickly, she wiped them and brought the tea over to Sigmund. "He wouldn't dare," she chuckled nervously. "P-Papa," the young boy responded, his eyes still shut. Sigrun deadpanned.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan felt a smile touch his lips. A real smile, not at all unlike the ones he had been practicing in front of the mirror and in front of his customers. It was a... curious feeling. It had been quite some since he had last had a reason to smile. "If nobody taught us anything, we'd all be long dead by now. So I'm just making sure you don't." He shrugged slightly. It was still a little weird for Ronan to be seen as the adult or the older brother, the person in charge. He was just telling her what to do, that was all. But then again, wasn't that what adults did? Tell you what to do. But he didn't mind the feeling of having people depending on you. Not with their lives, but simply for you to be there. He watched her as she tried to make the tea as well. The procedure was simple and in the end it was just pouring hot water over herbs. But she did it quite well and seemed to learn easily. He noticed she was shaking slightly, her hands unstable. "It's just tea, you know. Not the entrance exam for the Knights." He chuckled slightly at his own joke. It hadn't even been that funny. He moved into the boy's room afterwards and checked up on him. He wouldn't dare to die? It was not like he had a choice in the matter. Either he died or he didn't. There was no daring involved. Ronan gave himself a mental kick. That wasn't a very nice thing to think now, was it? "He's strong, I'm sure he will be fine. And as soon as you finish that tea, he will already be better." A thinly veiled hint that she should continue with the tea and bring it over. He repositioned himself in the bed, placing the boy's head in his lap so that it was angled enough for him to drink little by little. He took the tea from Sigrun and swirled it around in the cup a little, looking at the color. Satisfied with the result he lifted Sigmund's head up slightly. "You need to be careful. It is hot and he doesn't know that, so hold it to his lips lightly and let him get used to it." Ronan held the cup against the little boy's lips without pouring any of the tea yet. "Don't pour it all in at once, he'll choke, burn his throat, start coughing and you'll have wasted a good cup of tea. Just gentle tilt the cup and let him drink. He might not be entirely awake but his body knows what is good for it." Ronan spoke from experience here, both having been fed like this when he was sick and having helped out other children in the house they had lived in. He had seen children die of a simple fever before. He also had seen children live through fight wounds and worse. It could go either way, really. But he didn't mention that to the girl. Ronan froze as the boy spoke between his sips of the tea. Papa? "Sorry, young man. It's Ronan, not papa." Not that the boy would know who Ronan was, since he had collapsed before he had met Ronan. Perhaps he would be able to introduce himself after he had gotten better. Ronan brushed the word aside and continued with his work. "So? Carefully pour the drink and make sure you don't burn his lips or tongue. And keep his head angled so that he can drink and not choke. Once he is awake, he can start sitting up and drink on his own. Having the body move is a good way to heal. Without overdoing it, of course." Ronan kept the boy's head angled and started pouring the drink into the boy's mouth again, slowly, letting him drink and swallow on his own. There was no need to rush it. The amount of tea only lowered little by little, sip by sip.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"If nobody taught us anything, we'd all be long dead by now. So I'm just making sure you don't." Sigrun scoffed, smiling to herself. "If I died, I—" Her smile faded. She didn't know how to finish her sentence. She let the phrase die in the beginnings of Ronan's instruction on how to feed the tea to her younger brother. Sigrun watched and listened intently, nodding again and again to show him that she understood. "I'm responsible for the life of two living things. I can't be bothered to even get sick." She was prepared to take over when she heard Sigmund call out for their father. The young blonde blushed, embarrassed as Ronan told the boy softly that it wasn't her father. Snowe woke up from his slumber next to Sigmund, lifting his head and perking his ears up at the sound of the little boys voice. When the canine realized that the matriarch of the family was still not there, he went back to sleep. "I'm sorry," she muttered, "he's been gone for a while." Sigrun slowly snaked her fingers underneath Ronan's, inching closer to her younger brother as she gently took over the whole process of giving him the tea. With a soft smile on her face, she used her free hand to brush the young boy's blonde hair to the side, away from his forehead. She hummed a soft tune for a brief moment, one that seemed to soften the boy's features and make him smile a little. "He left us," she said, feeling the need to be a little more specific. "He must've thought he was back," Sigrun glanced over at the man and smiled sadly. She then rose from her seat on the mattress and brought the now-empty ceramic cup over to the kitchen.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan smiled and nodded. He understood. Gone for a while, he knew about that. It meant more something along the lines of: he's not coming back. The girl knew it. The boy probably didn't know. That was often the way of it. The younger siblings didn't know or didn't want to know, while the older ones did their best to provide instead of their parents. He had seen it happen plenty of times before, his friends, alone in their house without parents. Ronan wasn't sure if he envied them or not. They didn't have parents who hit them, or wished they didn't exist. But on the other hand, they didn't have parents. "That's fine. It doesn't matter." Ronan moved back from the boy, leaving his sister to care for him. As the two siblings were in the bedroom, Ronan moved himself to the kitchen again, checking on the water and continuing with the soup. The knife cut the vegetables easily, chopping the up into tiny pieces. It wouldn't be a meal for a knight, far from it, but it would be good for the boy and he was sure both the girl and himself could use a bite to eat as well. "I hope you're hungry." Ronan smiled at Sigrun as he put the sliced up carrots into the water, which was showing signs of small bubbles thanks to the hear of the fire. The carrots were joined by the onions and the rest of the vegetables, all chopped up into small pieces, thank to a few years of good practice in Ronan's youth. With the biggest spoon he could find, Ronan stirred the boiling water, mixing the vegetables with one another, letting their taste mix with the water. He took the spoon out and put a lid on the pot, which was a little too big, but it had been the only one he could find. "Do you know why he left?" Not the best conversation option, but between father and fever sick little brother, Ronan preferred to talk about the person that could possibly induce rage, rather than the one that would most certainly induce sadness and tears in the young girl.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"I hope you're hungry," Ronan said as he was in the other room working on the soup. Sigrun couldn't smell anything, but somehow she knew it was going to be good. The vegetables he had looked quite nice. "Oh, I'm starving," Sigrun called out with a relieved chuckle, "we're starving." She caught a smile form on Sigmund's lips for a split moment. The young boy smacked his lips and settled deeper into the mattress, his bony arms reaching out from under the covers for his sister. Sigrun held his hand and started to hum once more, her free hand continually wiping the damp cloth on his forehead, which had now become less feverish. "Do you remember what mama used to sing all the time?" the older sibling cooed, and Sigmund opened his eyes slowly and nodded, before closing them once more. Humming the song had a calming effect on the young boy, and she knew that. "Sing it to me?" the young boy asked. Sigrun squeezed his hand and shook her head. "You know I can't sing," she whispered, "I can't sing." "You used to do it all the time," Sigmund opened his eyes, a little wider this time. He shot Sigrun a pleading look, his weak fingers making a feeble attempt at gripping her hand tighter, but only managed a soft, quick squeeze. "With papa." Sigrun frowned, her hand leaving Sigmund's, using the dried up cloth as an excuse for the action. She soaked the cloth in the icy water once more, wordlessly. Sigmund whimpered and closed his eyes once more. "I can't sing," she reaffirmed. Sigmund remained silent, feigning being asleep. "That's their song," Sigmund mumbled, his eyes still shut, "it's their love song." Sigrun remained silent. "Do you know why he left?" Sigrun jumped a little bit. It took her a few seconds to realize what he was asking her. She turned towards the bedroom doorway and thought carefully about what she should say. "He was too upset," she said, "he couldn't take it." "My mom passed away, when Sigmund was born."

[Ronan Dugal]

It was not Ronan's place to discredit the man who left his children simply because he was too upset and couldn't take it. It was that kind of attitude that got Mizahar in the kinds of trouble akin to the Valterrian. Because some God couldn't take it and exploded the world. The spoon continued to stir the water and vegetables. It would still be a while before the soup would be finished. The vegetables needed time to boil out and mix their flavors with the water. "I'm sorry to hear that." Ronan just stood in silence in front of the fire, lost in thoughts of his own as his hand held the spoon that continued to stir the soup-to-be. A mother who died giving birth and a father who gave up on his children. Ronan wondered which was better. His or their life. "Do you have a job? Or any family that can take of you?" Ronan questioned, trying to get a better overall view of their situation. He was in no state to provide for three for the rest of his life. And he didn't want to either. Family was nice and everything but he had worked his way up through bad parents, a bad life and living in a bad place all to get to this point. If he could do it, others could do so as well. Ronan maneuvered the spoon and started to squish the vegetables against the side of the pot, mixing more of their flavor in the soup. He lacked some of the tools he had seen used in some of the big kitchens but worked with what he had. It was just a matter of time before the soup would finish itself. Soup really wasn't a labour intensive dish to make. Easy and good for you health, it would provide the young boy with the things he needed to get better, hopefully. Having seen more bad than good in Syliras, Ronan wondered what Sigrun would do if Sigmund didn't make it.

[Sigrun Dominic]

"I'm sorry to hear that." The silence that followed felt a lot more like hours rather than the actual minutes Sigrun spent staring into space, her fingers mindlessly running through her younger brother's golden locks. She turned away from the doorway and turned to the sleeping form beside her on the bed, her eyes wandering up and down the bridge of his nose. It was tiny, but bore the slopes and bumps of her father's. In contrast, Sigmund's eyes were reminiscent of his mother's; a bright baby blue, wide and innocent, perpetually curious. He was a beautiful mix of both parents. Sigrun was more like her father. Although she had her mother's button nose and small plump lips, she had her father's piercing aquamarine eyes, his strong eyebrows, and prominent chin. His skin practically lived on through hers, and so did his deep-seated thirst for travel and adventure. Sigrun hated that. She hated being the spitting image of a man who abandoned his many responsibilities because of himself. If the young blonde were any younger, she wouldn't have been able to understand the situation, and she wouldn't be capable of explaining it all to Sigmund. The pair would've been stuck blaming themselves and each other for the disappearance of their father, which would inevitably spiral into their demise. "It's fine," she finally responded, her voice weak and raspy. It was far too soft to reach the man stirring the pot of soup in the next room, but Sigrun didn't bother to repeat herself. A briefer pause. Sigrun stopped playing with Sigmund's hair and simply began to stare at his sleeping form. "Do you have a job? Or any family that can take of you?" The blonde girl shook her head, only to immediately remember that she wasn't right next to Ronan. "I don't," she said, a little louder this time, but the tiredness in her voice shattered her syllables. "I just fish," she added, "for food. And I'm responsible for my brother." "No one else is." "Or allowed to be," she thought to herself angrily, selfishly. Sigmund was her brother, and as far as she was concerned, he was nobody else's son any longer. For Sigrun, family members had the sole and entire responsibility of caring for each other, and no one else. Some people may come and go to assist, but in the end, the young girl wanted to Sigmund to be under only her care, for fear that another person who had the ability to come and go may only hurt him again once he would get attached to them. Their father made a good example of such a situation.

[Ronan Dugal]

Ronan lifted the spoon to his lips and tasted it. The soup was coming along nicely. He continued to casually stir the soup. He moved into the kitchen during a pause in the conversation and started looking through the stuff he had brought back. With a smile he plucked out the pepper and salt. Easy to come by, they did fetch a pretty good price however. Spices were sort of a luxury item, depending on who you know. He smiled as he put no more than a fingertip of both into the broth as it cooked. She just fished. He smiled. Fishing could be a very lucrative business, depending on who you knew. Once again, it came down to the people that you knew. Ronan smiled and tasted the soup again. He let it boil further and walked towards the bedroom. He leaned against the opening between the two rooms, looking at the two siblings. "You know, you could make a good living from fishing. Or any other fish related job. There are plenty of people in the docks who are always looking for apprentices or labors to help with their fish or with cleaning them. If you're lucky, you could work for one of the captains." Ronan fell silent for a moment as he pondered that last bit. "Perhaps that's not such a good idea. One woman alone on a ship full of lonely sailors. I'd suggest you take a land based job somewhere. How is he?" He nodded towards the boy in the bed, seeing that he was sleeping. Ronan went over the mental list of people that he knew in the fishing business. Nobody really stood out. The only person he would have trusted with a girl like Sigrun ha hadn't seen in quite a few years now and he wasn't sure if the man was even around still. He pushed himself away from the opening in the room and walked back towards the kitchen. With nothing better to do than to wait for the soup, he started organizing the things in the kitchen. All the food and spices were sorted into the cupboards. The tools he had brought were hung from the pins in the wall, where they belonged. The tea and the second empty cup he placed on the side on the counter. He hummed softly to himself as he worked. No use in him being down as well.