Saturday, September 1, 2012

Marc has scoped out a booth and is sitting there with a glass of wine when Rowan cames in. He waves her over and pulls out her chair for her. Monty comes over with a pair of menus and a glass of wine for Rowan. She listens in growing horror as Marc orders a gargantuan order of Nachos, loaded potato skins and buffalo wings with ranch dressing. Monty hides a grin as she orders a vegetable plate and more wine, then makes his way back to the bar.

"Rough day, Priestess?" "

Aren't they all?", Rowan mutters as she tips back her glass and swallows a third of the contents. "I had to officiate at a funeral a few days ago, Marc, a funeral for a little boy who never had a chance. I had to deal with his parents' grief, and maybe worse, the confusion of those who would have been his brothers and sisters and cousins. They have questions I can't answer, not with any certainty - why do these things happen, why do the gods let these things happen, or do they make these things happen because they just don't give a damn? I spout a few comforting platitudes, but I don't have the answers any more than they do."

"That, Priestess, is what faith is all about. You can't have certainty; if you did, it wouldn't be faith, it would be fact, right?"

"Yeah, well at times likes these I wouldn't mind a little fact." She looks up then, fixes him with a sharp glance. "But I am very very glad to see you. As bad as things get, you manage to make me feel like it's not my job to fix everything. Maybe that's a part of faith, too, not having to be responsible for everything that comes along. I mean" - she looks up again, meets his eyes - "Wiccans are taught to be self-reliant, not to lay everything off on the gods. If you have a problem, you do everything in your power to solve it before you call on the gods - something like 'the gods help those who help themselves'. Maybe I take that to an extreme, I don't know... I know the stress of living like that is crushing, and being with you helps to lighten the load. So I thank you very very much for being who you are, and for helping me to try to be just a human being, and reminding me that that's all that I am, magic or not."

Marc grins. "Well, Priestess, I'd find it hard to be anyone else... and I'm more than happy to remind you that you're not responsible for everything that goes wrong in this world, nor even in this town. You're not a goddess... you're just Rowan" - he grins again - "and in my opinion, that's quite enough for any woman."

Rowan finds herself smiling in spite of herself. "Flatterer. Do we have plans after we finish this huge meal?" Her eyes go wide as Monty brings the first of the platters to the table and she sees just how huge.

Marc whispers something across the table, too low even for the marmuur's sensitive hearing. Rowan blushes slightly and then laughs aloud. "Pretty sure of yourself, aren't you, soldier?" The laughter fades but the smile remains. "Well... we'll see...."

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