White Opal #4; Tourmaline #15 [Starfall]

[thisbluespirit]

Name: Head in the Clouds
Story: Starfall
Colors: White Opal #4 (pictures in the clouds); Tourmaline #15 (feather/lead)
Supplies and Styles: Graffiti - 11 Years of Rainbowfic Pt 12 (anniversary/birthday) + Giftwrap
Word Count: 893
Rating: G
Warnings: None.
Notes: late 1320, Portcallan; Leion Valerno, Leaira Modelen. (Leaira is about 8 here, while this takes place 7 years after the Portcallan arc for Leion. The Starflower Day mentioned is the anniversary of the Emoyran regions uniting into one country.)
Summary: Leion finds a child in the garden.

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Leion made his way further down the garden, out of the way of the guests. The path was strewn with blue petals, some paper, some real. More floated gently from his shoulders as he loosened his collar. It was a warm day, the house and patio area of Modelen House were crowded, celebrating both the birth of Rodern and Tailla's latest daughter and the annual Starflower Day. Leion wasn't in the right mood for either, but he could not, in all politeness, leave this early.

He pushed past a fruit bush that needed pruning, and headed for the small bench close to an apricot tree, and then drew to a halt on finding it already occupied. There was a child, stretched out on, it staring skyward.

Leion lifted a last stray branch out of his face and stepped forward. "Are you all right there?"

"Yes," she said, and carried on gazing upwards. Then she raised her head and frowned, before sitting up. "Oh! Does my aunt want me?"

"I have no idea. I only wondered if you were ill or passed out—or dead, of course. I wouldn't want to leave you lying there if you'd been horribly murdered."

The child laughed. "I'm quite well, thank you. I don't need anything." She paused, and then remembered to add, without much feeling: "Thank you."

Leion's lips twitched. No need to ask if she was a member of the family or not, with that quietly imperious manner. "May I ask what you are doing out here, then?"

"Looking at the clouds," she said. "Deciding what they all are."

He grinned and looked up himself. "Ah. I see. And what have you found so far?"

The child slid back down into a prone position and pointed; Leion couldn't make out which cloud she meant. "A tower. A ship. I think that one must be an untransformed creature from the sea, it's such a peculiar, wobbly shape. It's probably chasing the ship."

"Naturally." Leion perched on the edge of the bench. "I'm afraid, though, I do have to ask - does your aunt know where you are?"

She pulled a face. "She told me to go and play with Fena and Erlyn out of the way, and I am out of the way. But I hate them. They're my cousins, sort of, I think, but they're both awful. Fena has no ideas and Erlyn thinks she's better than anyone."

"Oh, dear." Leion smiled. "We grown ups never have any sense about these things. I suppose it's because we spend all our time, ah, playing with the people we don't like." He glanced over at her, watching him out of large, wary dark eyes. "I won't spoil your fun, but who is your aunt? One of the Lighthaven Modelens?"

She drew her knees up in front of her on the seat, hugging them. "How did you know?"

"You look like a Modelen," he said. "One of the nice ones, of course."

She nodded. "Yes. I'm Leaira." Then she pointed at the sky. "That one has to be a fish!"

"Looks like a rain cloud to me."

Leaira frowned. "That isn't how you play it."

"Sorry." Leion studied grey-streaked clouds heading across the blue sky with new attention. "A wolf, perhaps?" he offered, and gestured towards his pick.

She set her mouth. "A dog. Not a wolf. I don't like wolves!"

"Are they much of a problem in Lighthaven?"

Leaira looked at him. "That's not a real question, is it?"

"No," said Leion. "What have wolves done to you?"

Leaira lowered her gaze and stared away into the garden. She squeezed her arms tighter round her knees. "I saw some once. In the lightstone and it was cold and awful. I don't like thinking about it. I see it at night sometimes, too, especially if I talk about it."

"I'm sorry. How did the dreams feel?"

She turned her head in surprise. "What?"

"Dreams like that can be of several kinds. Sometimes it's vague and what you see might only be a symbol or a metaphor—a clue to something else. Others—well, did it feel near—as if you needed to do something about it?"

"No," said Leaira, now watching him as if she found him as strange as a cloud that couldn't be categorised as anything other than an untransformed sea creature. "It felt far away, I think. But awful."

Leion smiled. "Then enjoy the sunshine. These wolves of yours probably aren't even real ones. Now, your aunt — would that be Jaina Modelen?"

Leaira hesitated and then nodded. "Are you going to tell her?"

"Only that you're out in the garden," he said.

Leaira shivered. "I hate that dream. It doesn't matter what it is."

"Yes," he said, rising from the bench. He patted her shoulder lightly. "That's the problem with dreams. If you don't want them, they won't leave you alone. But if you have a good one— if you try to hold onto it, then it'll slide away like one of your cloud pictures before you know where you are."

Now that he'd vacated the end of the bench, Leaira lay back down on it again, resuming her game without taking any notice of his rambling. "It's definitely a dog, that one."

"I'm sure you're right," said Leion. "But it looks like rain to me."