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daine

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I had no idea what she was doing.

She probably knew I was there, I had been following her for a little while now, watching as she seemed to test trees for some reason, and I hadn't made any real attempt to hide that I was there. I hadn't meant to follow her without saying a word, just watching as she worked, but once she started up with the trees, I found myself distracted trying to work out what she was doing.

I would have tested trees to see whether or not they would make good snares. I didn't think that was what she was doing. In a place like Darrow, snares weren't necessary, not for hunting, not for security either. There were better ways to do both those things and although I couldn't say for certain she would know that, I had to assume she would.

Someone who knew how to make snares would be smart enough to figure that out.

Eventually she was going to get annoyed with me, so I finally stepped closer, my hands in my pockets, and asked, "What are you doing?"

Hopefully she would answer me. But probably not before thinking I was Elio first, just like everyone else, even though we sounded nothing alike.

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That's a bit perplexing, and Daine's brow furrows as she tries to imagine a realm in which such a thing would make sense. It seems to her that if you've got folk who use weapons and are prone to kidnapping anywhere near you, then you'd probably want to be familiar with how weapons work, yourself. Elsewise, you'd have no end of trouble.

But it also seems like a rude thing to press about. Just because he mentioned being taken doesn't mean he wants to talk about it in detail. So, aside from looking a bit bewildered, Daine doesn't respond to that bit. Instead, she resumes her stroll through the trees, trusting that Jamie will keep up as well as he has already.

"Not in ages," she says with a rueful smile. "Grandda showed me how, but I already had a good bow, so I've only made middling ones. I don't even have all the tools I need, yet -- but the wood has to dry for a while, anyhow, so I figured I'd just focus on that part, first."

There's a drumming of a woodpecker not too far off, accompanied by a pointed nudge in her mind, and Daine turns towards the sound with a soft 'huh,' as if an excellent point had just been made. "Let's try that, then," she says, giving Jamie a brief, conspiratorial smile as she heads in that direction.

I wasn't sure what it was about the woodpecker that made her turn in that direction, but I was happy enough to follow. There were obviously things she knew that I had no idea about and I wasn't too proud a boy to learn from others. I didn't think I would have survived the Island otherwise, because it was the entire group of us that kept the family together, even if Peter had never seen it that way.

It was fun to learn. Maybe by the end of this, I would know where to look for wood if I wanted to make myself a bow. Maybe she would even help me fashion one of my own some day.

"How come you don't live at the Children's Home?" I asked as we walked. She didn't seem to be that much older than I was and not older than some of the girls in the Home, but I supposed I couldn't be absolutely certain of that. I had come to understand a long time ago that sometimes people weren't quite what they seemed to be.

Daine would have winced at that question once, and the urge is still there. The 'why' of it all is a mystery to her, and not one she much cares to air. She doesn't know why the city gave her an apartment instead of sending her there, though she is grateful. She also doesn't know how to explain it without making it sound horribly unfair, because it is.

But she hasn't lived at Ocean View for some time, now. Really, the apartment needn't come up at all. "Because I live out here, in a farmhouse with some other folk. Biffy and Lyall are my guardians." It's the technical term more than the right one, but she doesn't want to put Jamie off by calling them 'Pack.'

"Though even that seems strange, often as not. Seventeen's a bit old to have folk treat you like a child. Like you need guarding." She wrinkles her nose, making no attempt to hide her feelings on that matter. Granted, folk her age in Darrow often act as if they might as well be children, but she suspects it's because no one expects better of them, not because they can't help themselves.

"Yeah, I-" I started, then paused, trying to decide how much I wanted to tell her. Daine seemed nice and I liked making new friends, but I also knew my story sounded a bit odd. People had looked at me as if I were strange when I told them where I'd come from and I didn't always enjoy that very much.

Still, I wasn't going to make proper friends by being dishonest. If I'd learned anything from Peter, I had certainly learned that.

"Where I'm from, there were no grown ups," I told her. "And it sounded so wonderful at first, but as time went on, it became less and less fun. I thought I wanted to be young forever and to never have any grown ups tell me what to do, but after awhile, I realized it wasn't such a terrible thing. I don't mind it now. They're just trying to do right by us."

And I missed being a proper kid. A proper young boy.

Edited 2018-08-24 20:22 (UTC)

She frowns, bewildered -- not because his story strikes any familiar chords with her, but because it's hard to reconcile what he's saying now with what he said before. Either he was taken from a place with no grown-ups -- and if that's true, how did he get there in the first place? -- or he was taken to a place with no grown-ups -- and if that's true, that'd mean he was kidnapped by another child, or group of children, which is hard to imagine and doesn't make much sense.

"So... did you start off in a place with no grown-ups? Or was it a bunch of children who took you away?" She just assumes it was a group, and that one child didn't haul him off.

"It was just one," I answered and I hated this part of the story, because it reminded me all over again that my mother was dead. That Peter had killed her, someone who had loved me very much, and then tried to act as if I would be taken away to jail for the crime. I had believed him at the time, but of course I had, because Peter was my friend and I had been very young.

"Peter could be very persuasive," I told her. "I went with him willingly."

And I had stayed with him willingly for a very long time. It had taken many, many years before I even started to realize what he was and all the ways in which he was so very cruel. Bit by bit, I had grown up as I had grown more disenchanted with his behaviour, until I found myself as I was now.

"Mithros," she breathes, at a loss. Plenty of questions spring to mind. Persuasive or not, why go with this boy, Peter, in the first place? Was life at home so terrible?

It might very well have been, which makes her hesitate to ask.

She's not sure how much Jamie really wants to share. And either way, it seems a little unfair, to have him just heap painful details of his own past in her lap while she just sits there and takes them.

"I left home when I was thirteen," she offers after a few moments' thought. "Bandits hit our farm while I was away. Everything was just... gone. Nothing to stay for." She hesitates for a beat. "I s'pose I wouldn't have been hard to persuade, either. Though I didn't feel much like a child anymore, after all that."

"Bandits," I echoed. "Like pirates?"

There were some things I only knew about very vaguely, because I spent so much time on the Island and wasn't introduced to the same things other people were, but I thought bandits and pirates might very well be similar things. Which meant I probably shouldn't tell Daine I had been thinking about becoming a pirate near the end of my time with Peter.

I knew I was supposed to hate them, but I had been so blind to all the cruelties of Peter Pan and I'd begun to wonder if maybe he was the real villain. If perhaps the pirates were only our enemies because we had attacked them first.

Daine hums in affirmation. "Near enough. Except pirates only travel by sea in my realm. Snowsdale was up in the mountains, so it was bandits we had to worry about."

And that's about all that can be said about it without going into some truly nasty details. She doesn't much care for telling anyone about how she'd run mad with the Pack, least of all folk she's just met. Just because he knows what pirates are doesn't mean he'll understand the vengeance she took.

"Seems so cruel," I said. "For them to just attack like that. Without provocation."

Like we did all the time. Because it was fun for Peter to see us raid the pirate's camp. For him to burn it all to the ground. We had become monsters under his guidance and looking back now, I often couldn't believe what we had done. Why had I thought it was so much fun at the time? Was it because I wanted so badly to see Peter smile?

I hated myself for that. I had to be better than that now. I had to try harder and not simply follow someone because I wanted them to be happy with me. I had to think for myself.

It is cruel, but a sort of two-legger cruelty she's so well acquainted with that all she can do is shrug. "Some folk find it easier to take things than work for them. It happens here, too, I expect; it's just that folk are more careful about it, and they don't run in gangs so much." Or if they do, they seem more concerned with holding their own territory than sweeping through someone else's.

Really, the nearest Darrow has ever gotten to the sort of lawlessness she'd see back home was the Purge. And there's been no sign that they're doing that again.

Peter had never worked for anything. He always just took. I supposed I was guilty of that, too, of taking things from the pirates instead of working for them, but I'm not sure where we would have worked on the Island. I supposed Peter had taken that possibility from us, too.

I had worked for our food at least. I had grown vegetables and hunted rabbits and gone fishing when I could. I was still terribly conflicted about the idea of becoming a pirate, but Peter had been no better.

"At least here it's possible to work," I said. "Where I came from, there wasn't anything like there is here."

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