[ Which means, she suspects, tell me what you think of Messere Rutyer. She has to consider it before she can find words for it. ]
He wished to know who made my claws. He believes in justice.
[ And she doesn't dislike him, exactly, but something in the way he speaks makes her feel uncertain. (Though if Fitcher enjoys his company, that's a significant point in his favor.) ]
Does he? I've never been in the position to observe that particular quality in the man.
[She flattens her hands absently on the blanket before her, studying her fingernails and the dry skin of her knuckles. Maybe she will ask Barrow to find her some Cowslip oil.]
[ She's braiding again, come to the end of Fitcher's hair. Another pause, as she gives her work a critical look, and then she starts to undo it all. It was successful only insofar as she completed the plait. Eventually, she says the thing she's been thinking all this time. ]
[ Before she starts again, she combs her fingers through Fitcher's hair. It might be plain and coarse, but Laura likes it. It smells right. Comforting, even. ]
[She says it automatically, and only after think it's honest.]
There is something pleasant to knowing there is always something to be done in the day, and that it will be done in the company of interesting people. And you?
My husband died, and I have been following my employment since and never saw fit to remarry. Children would have been-- not inconvenient, but certainly a complication. Though I had lots of brothers and sisters, and I like them very much. There is nothing quite like holding a baby.
[ The silence after isn't quite comfortable for Laura, but it's not an unfamiliar sensation; she simply doesn't know what to say. There's a great deal in there to take in. That Fitcher has had family and lost it, that she has siblings, that she might have married again and chose not to. (Her employment seems unimportant by comparison--clearly she simply works for Riftwatch.)
In the end, Laura chooses the thing she's most curious about and hopes it's an acceptable response. Once again, the plait in Fitcher's hair is unraveled as she asks-- ]
I suppose it depends on the baby. But they are always heavier than they seem they should be. —That goes for everyone. I'll bet your friend's head weighs twice as much as you expect, should he ever put it in your lap.
I have not weighed Matthias' head. [The idea, though, of letting him rest his cheek on her thigh is...pleasant, she decides. She could touch all the little waves and curls his hair makes, and he could tell her things.] But I will let you know if that is the case.
[Discovering whether babies are heavier than expected will be more difficult. She would have to find one first.]
Please do. [Now, in Machiavellian spirit of all great aunts, she adds,] And if you are curious about babies, you might ask Sister Sara. I believe I have heard she does some midwifery, and I don't doubt that she would appreciate an able assistant.
[The thought of this is surprisingly pleasant, too; babies are an unknown quantity aside from an awareness that they're small and they cry. Fitcher's apparent approval of them, however, serves as a strong recommendation.
There are other bits and pieces of conversation, and eventually one or the other grows tired, and that is that.]
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He wished to know who made my claws. He believes in justice.
[ And she doesn't dislike him, exactly, but something in the way he speaks makes her feel uncertain. (Though if Fitcher enjoys his company, that's a significant point in his favor.) ]
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[She flattens her hands absently on the blanket before her, studying her fingernails and the dry skin of her knuckles. Maybe she will ask Barrow to find her some Cowslip oil.]
Was this to do with your business in Nevarra?
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[ She's braiding again, come to the end of Fitcher's hair. Another pause, as she gives her work a critical look, and then she starts to undo it all. It was successful only insofar as she completed the plait. Eventually, she says the thing she's been thinking all this time. ]
I do not know if I like him or not.
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To be honest, I don't know that I do either. Which is why he only kisses me when it appeals to me.
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That is the only time you should let someone kiss you.
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[She settles back around, content to continue to be experimented on.]
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Do you like Riftwatch?
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[She says it automatically, and only after think it's honest.]
There is something pleasant to knowing there is always something to be done in the day, and that it will be done in the company of interesting people. And you?
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[ No hesitation, no pause after to consider. ]
We help people.
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[A pause. She doesn't turn her head.]
How comes the plait?
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[Somehow, it looks off-center. Is it possible to make a plait that tilts too far to one side?]
Do you have children?
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I think I would have liked to. But no.
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In the end, Laura chooses the thing she's most curious about and hopes it's an acceptable response. Once again, the plait in Fitcher's hair is unraveled as she asks-- ]
What are babies like?
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I suppose it depends on the baby. But they are always heavier than they seem they should be. —That goes for everyone. I'll bet your friend's head weighs twice as much as you expect, should he ever put it in your lap.
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[Discovering whether babies are heavier than expected will be more difficult. She would have to find one first.]
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[The thought of this is surprisingly pleasant, too; babies are an unknown quantity aside from an awareness that they're small and they cry. Fitcher's apparent approval of them, however, serves as a strong recommendation.
There are other bits and pieces of conversation, and eventually one or the other grows tired, and that is that.]