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Say They Fear Her (f!courier/siri) (dubcon, referenced noncon) (41d/?)
Date: 2016-04-15 03:13 pm (UTC)Siri wraps her arms around her stomach.
“How do you feel about tea?” Owl-Eagle asks.
“It’s been a long time,” Siri responds.
“Oh, I would imagine.” Owl-Eagle waves her along, into the dim room in the back. She lights a lamp with a match, shakes it out, deposits it in an overflowing ashtray. “How long since the Legion took your town?”
“Three and a half years. How did you know I was from--”
“‘Tribal remedies.’ A girl who learned them growing up might call them ‘old remedies’ or ‘old ways’ or just ‘the things my grandmother taught me.’ Someone from a town calls them tribal.” Owl-Eagle dumps water into two mugs, arranges them on a hot plate. “I’m impressed that you willingly took to them. A lot of the town girls I know refused, because they thought a town would have better medicine.”
“They don’t, most of the time,” Siri agrees.
“I’m glad you’re not too proud to see that. Here, why don’t you sit down.” Owl-Eagle points to a rickety folding chair. “I have a few questions for you.”
“It’s been a long time since anyone asked me questions, too.” She folds her hands in her lap, digs the heels of her hands into the canvas of her pants. They’re gritty--everything is gritty, what she wouldn’t give for a washing day and a clothesline--but it’s grounding.
“They're easy questions,” Owl-Eagle laughs. “How do you like your tea?”
“Weak,” Siri admits. Owl-Eagle laughs.
“That wasn’t one of my questions, sorry.” She passes the mug over to Siri, and something that looks like a homemade teabag. She settles onto the bare mattress with her own mug and teabag. “My real questions are harder than that.”
“I never went to medical school, mind you,” Siri replies, smiles into her mug. Can she joke here? Is that allowed? Owl-Eagle laughs, a big, wide sound.
“No medical questions, I assume you know what you’re doing. How is--Lucy? How is she doing? As her friend, not her doctor.”
“She--” Siri looks away. “She’s certainly done better, but she’s doing alright now.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear it. And you? How are you doing?”
“Better than I have in years.”
“And why is that?” Owl-Eagle folds her legs up under her, sits cross-legged at the edge of the bed. She sips her mug.