It was the early evening and they had stopped to make camp. Everyone busied themselves with the duties of camp and soon a cook fire had been made and dinner served. Everyone went off to attend to their own affairs after dinner. Giacomo had watched Aislinn walk off alone; she had walked just past a small copse of trees, she was secluded, but not really out of sight.

Giacomo had worried about everyone after their talk at the Oracle’s. Each of his companions now seemed to carry a new burden, each had not yet found their old footing. For his part, Giacomo was now even more of an observer on this great quest than he had been. Still, he was coming to care for these new friends. He poured two cups of tea and walked over to where Aislinn sat.

“Aislinn.” He said, his face set into his best smile, “Some of my special brew.” He said offering her a black with bright blue cup with a matching cover over its top. “We have so few luxuries out on the trail, I do not know what I would do without my tea and cups.” He said by way of explanation. “When I was a boy, one of my father’s cooks taught me how to make this brew. I think you’ll find it has a welcome lightness.” He was clearly more nervous than he wanted to let on, but he cleared his mind and his smile freshened into something more authentic and less practiced.

“Please, may I sit?”

The priestess took the cup with a smile. "Thank you, Giacomo. You can join me, if you wish though I'm afraid I've not been very good company of late," she admitted. Aislinn sipped the tea, then gave the bard another smile. "This is very good. What's on your mind that has the smooth, unflappable master bard so nervous?" she then asked, her blue eyes regaining some of their twinkle.

“I am unnerved by your beauty.” Giacomo said with typical aplomb, hoping he had concealed it with flattery. “I merely wanted the pleasure of your company, ill or good.” He added with a smile.

Aislinn chuckled at the flattery, but didn't seem particularly phased by it. She appreciated it but didn't easily fall prey to it. "If you're unnerved by my beauty, how do you handle yourself with Li-eira's?" she laughed. There might have been a brittle edge to the end of her laughter, but it finished too quickly to be truly certain.

“When I think of her, I think of Coren and I am put off.” He answered, with more truth than he could himself understand. Aislinn nodded her understanding, though.

“You slip between yourselves very easily.” He said after a fashion. “I don’t think that many of us can keep up with you.”

"Slip between myselves?" she asked, pale eyebrows raised. "Are you mistaking me for Yasminna, perhaps?"

Giacomo laughed, “No. I mean you. You easily slip between Aislinn and Mother Aislinn. That is what I meant. The two are different, as they are the same, but one seems to be off-putting to several of our companions. But, to you, it seems as simple as pulling your hair back or letting it down.”

“Still, always the same woman.” Giacomo said. “Does it bother you that not everyone sees the woman in both?”

She flinched hard at that, then shivered. Her gaze swept up from her cup to meet his. "I suppose it does, yes," she finally said. Whatever else she was, she was no coward, this priestess of Mathern. She was facing down her demons, her doubts, her fears but there was a lot of work to be done. "Yasminna/Yahim sees it, but then she's got her own unique perspective on that."

Giacomo nodded his understanding.

Aislinn brought the cup to her lips and drank again, swallowing carefully. "Even though Mathern's priests and priestesses aren't required to be celibate and unmarried, people's perspectives change around us. When I became a Child of Mathern, almost all my old friends grew more respectful, more distant, especially after my first healing spell was cast."

“I’m sorry.” He said, touching her hand with his. “I imagine that it is something to see someone you knew as ‘little Aislinn, whose hair I used to pull’ as a vessel of the gods. Still, it ignores the higher meaning of the woman iniside.” He reached into his pocket and removed a long piece of green ribbon. It was the color of new leaves, green with a hint of golden sunlight, about ten inches long and three wide.

Her eyes went a little wider with pleasure at seeing the ribbon. It felt as if she hadn't worn anything 'pretty' in years, when in reality it had only been a couple of months. Still, more than long enough for any woman.

“I found this for you.” He said, pulling her hair back and tying it with the ribbon. “I hope that it will serve as a reminder to you, and to those of us around you, that you are more than a mere Child of Mathern, that you are also a person.” He kissed her softly on the cheek and sat back to sip his tea.

She watched in fascination as he moved closer to pull back her hair and tie it with the ribbon. The smallest touch of his fingers made color rise in her cheeks. The lips on her cheek left a warm spot that lingered as she slowly reached up and delicately brushed the ribbon. "Thank you, Giacomo," she said softly. "For the ribbon and the gift of your words and company. It's been..." she began, then stopped and chuckled wryly. "Well, it's been a while since I received even a small gift like this, so it's more appreciated than you might think."

“The color suits you.” Giacomo said, “Like that smile suits your face and the laughter that plays upon your lips.” He took her hand in his and took turns watching the moon rise and the way the light fell on her face, absently humming a tune she had never heard before.

She allowed her hand to rest in his, though some small part of her mind was wary of doing so. "It won't hurt anything and I need this bit of contact. This connection to... being human, alive and feminine," she thought. The moonlight paled her complexion to alabaster and her white-blonde hair could be moonbeams of itself. "Is that a new tune you're composing? I've never heard the melody before."

Giacomo was surprised that he had been doing that out loud, he had been lost in thought – considering all the beauty that he was surrounded by – it was no wonder. “I suppose it is.” He said, a little embarrassed. “Sometimes, when I get inspired, I tend to sing new songs. I’m not entirely sure about the process, but it’s something that happens.”

“It’s a work in progress, but I believe I have enough … would you honor me by listening to it?” He didn’t seem at all insecure about singing for her, but he also didn’t seem at all insistent.

"It is I who would be honored, Giacomo," she smiled softly. "I'm no great judge of music but I've enjoyed your songs and stories thus far. If you're ready, then I would love to hear what you have, so far." She didn't gush, nor did she try being falsely humble. She was simply being herself. Being there to listen to anything, openly and honestly caring about the man and what he had to say or sing.

He started, the melody sweet with hints of melancholy. It was a love song. He seemed unashamed in the singing; his voice was soft as a whisper, but the words were clear. He seemed to be giving a concert for Aislinn and the night itself. He began:

(verse)
She hides behind the clouds, a half-hidden smile on her lips
She calls to me, only to pull away into the night
Moonlight and ice: wisps of memory
The sky cries and I am unsheltered from her rain.

(chorus)
Oh, how high! Oh, how far!
She’s with me when’er I stand – so long as I stand in the night.
She pulls the light though me – and holds me while I dance.
I dance and dance and dance – until I disappear into the glow:
like a shade into the fog; like a vapor in the night.

(verse)
She breaks free from the clouds, shining with all her glory
Singing songs dark and sweet, songs only I can hear
Moonlight and shadow, speak of your life
The moon – in her phases – hides as well as seeks

(chorus)
Oh, how high! Oh, how far!
She’s with me when’er I stand – so long as I stand in the night
She pulls the light through me – and holds me while I dance.
I leap and jump and fly – until I disappear into the glow:
like a shade into the fog; like a vapor in the night

(verse)
Wreaths of moonlight crown her, stars and seers her court
Enthroned on constellations, my heart her footstool
Moonlight and ivory, whispers of love
She dances over me and I am unsheltered from her grace.

(chorus)
Oh, how high! Oh, how far!
She’s with me when’er I stand – so long as I stand in the night.
She pull the light through me – and holds me while we dance
We dance and dance and dance – until we disappear into the glow:
like a story in the mist; like a vapor in the night.

(Bridge)
Secrets and songs and looks of love
Moonlight and mystery and the stars above
All seek to find what is hidden in her face
All seek to know what is written in my heart

(chorus)
Oh, how high! Oh, how far!
She’s with me when’er I stand – so long as I stand in the night
She pulls her light through me – and holds me when we dance
We dance and dance and dance – until we disappear into the glow
like a story in the mist; like a vapor in the night

When he was finished, he looked a little embarrassed. “I don’t always know where these things are going to go once they start. But, clearly, you were the inspiration for this song. I hope that I have not over-stepped the bounds of our burgeoning friendship.”

Her eyes widen, tears still standing in them from the emotions in the song and it's melody. It never occurred to her that she would be the inspiration for such a thing. The breath caught in her lungs and her mouth went inexplicably dry. She swallowed, shaking her head. "You haven't," she said aloud. "I just..." she began, then stopped, unable to find the words she wanted as her brain and emotions swirled. "Thank you," she finally said, sincerely. The smile she bestowed upon him was one of her loveliest and all-encompassing, lighting up her eyes as it had done before the meeting with the Oracle. "Of all the gifts I've received in my life, aside from Mathern's, that was the best of them."

Her fingers trembled slightly in his hand. There was more she wanted to say, to ask but her courage deserted her in that moment. Aislinn squeezed his hand instead, letting their fingers inter-twine. She leaned over and kissed his cheek, much as he did with her, earlier. Petal-soft lips brush his skin and linger a second or two longer than strictly necessary, but the gesture worked to convey her gratitude and growing affection for the bard.

“Thank you.” He said humbly, his mind held the moment of her kiss far longer than her lips had been held against his face. He smiled and blushed a little, pressing his hand back against hers and letting the silence of the night fall on them.

“May I ask you a question?” He said after a fashion. “What is it that you do for yourself? What is your hidden talent?”

Aislinn blinked, surprised at the question. Then she laughed, light as a breeze. "Would you believe that no one's ever asked me that question, before?" she asked, shaking her head. "I suppose that singing and dancing are things that I do for me," she continued after a moment. "My voice isn't a bard's of course, but I do enjoy doing it. And I think I'm a fair dancer -- by country standards," she grins. "Growing up in Caer Talldyr, there's no cause to learn the fancy court dances. Otherwise I don't know that I have a 'hidden' talent. The things I do as a healer and as a priestess... those are also things I do for myself. I'm happy doing those things and sometimes, healing and helping others heals and helps me, too."

Giacomo smiled as she talked about herself, he listened and could nearly see her – belle of the fair, spinning and dancing and laughing. “Your voice is the one that Vwrg gave you and as such, is perfectly suited to you; I am certain that more than Mathern has enjoyed your songs.

“Please promise me: next time we’re in a city with a player … you’ll honor me with a dance.” He smiled and turned her hand over in his, “I so rarely get to dance with anyone and I cannot think of another I’d rather share a song with.”

"I think I would enjoy that," she replied with another soft smile. Her eyes twinkled softly as she contemplated the possibilities. "I'll save you a dance or two, Giacomo," she promised. "Perhaps more if you're good," she grinned impishly.

“Fair enough.” He said with a smile. As the night grew cooler, he moved closer to her; enjoying the warmth where their bodies touched. “We should return to camp.” Giacomo said after a bit, a sense of loss hung about his voice.

She turned her head to look at him, her breath catching a little at finding his face so close to hers. Her gaze swept over his handsome face and the corners of her mouth kicked up slightly. "Yes, I suppose we should. I know I've made a habit of stepping away for a while. I've never had my faith's foundation rocked as hard as it was and I'm having trouble finding my footing again." She sighed and shook her head. "But that doesn't mean I need to neglect everyone else currently in my life. Thank you again, Giacomo. For the tea, the ribbon, the song and just the pleasure of your company," she smiled, squeezing his fingers with hers.

They walked in silence and hand-in-hand back to the camp; but Giacomo released her hand just before they entered the firelight that illuminated the area. He gave her a friendly smile, warm and full of care. It could have been his imagination, but she seemed more like her old self than any time since the meeting with the Oracle. For that, he was thankful.