Fate

“Strange is our situation here upon earth. Each of us comes for a short visit, not knowing why, yet sometimes seeming to a divine purpose. From the standpoint of daily life, however, there is one thing we do know: That we are here for the sake of others...for the countless unknown souls with whose fate we are connected by a bond of sympathy. Many times a day, I realize how much my outer and inner life is built upon the labors of people, both living and dead, and how earnestly I must exert myself in order to give in return as much as I have received.”
(Albert Einstein)

Fate snuck under the wagon flaps and tapped me on the shoulder this morning. Some will call it circumstance, logically ticking off the reasons of why and how, but I believe in something stronger than logic and reason. I believe in chance. I believe in fate and stepping through open (and sometimes closed) doors and following a song that hums in my head.

Master Brave Warrior Fonce sat on the steps of His wagon this morning. It is very rare that we are both in this place at the same time, and all the excitement and eagerness and happiness to see Him was a palpable pulse through my veins. I had traded dung picking with Dee, staying instead to fix a weak broth that was just warming up to a simmer when I spotted Him. He was working a few pieces of leather through His hands, hands that I would study now and again. I had chosen to stay around the wagons since I had found a surprise inside that morning. The Artisan Seveya, wounded and lost to sleep or something less pleasant. It became very apparent this was also why Master was around the wagons this morning.

I settled at His feet, feeling the harshness of the wood beneath my knees for just a brief moment. My first question was as to how He was feeling. He was using both arms and hands, which seemed an improvement, and I was more than happy to hear that He was getting better. I next asked about the Artisan and He told me the story. He told it from a distance of sorts, basic details in answer to my questions, stirring up more questions that competed for the chance to be asked. He continued to work the leather as He spoke, letting me pick and choose where those questions took me. When He mentioned issues with her Uncle, a sudden memory sparked...Karvek's features visible in firelight in the midst of a scuffle.

I asked Him if He would react in the same way if a woman of His family submitted. Would He take it personally like the Artisan's Uncle did? I wanted to know what feelings inspired these actions, compare it to how my own family might have reacted had they known, and I wanted to know how my Master felt about it all. He agreed that He would feel it personally, but that no one would ever know it, nor see it. The woman would be dead to Him, but that new person might in time be known to Him. I had to admire His open mind. At first I was a bit taken back by the finality of death, until I realized He spoke of the place, the relationship, the stature of the woman. She would no longer be a sister, cousin, or aunt. Yet, He would see them as they found their hearts to become.

He explained that He understood a woman's need for love, acceptance, and her weaknesses. Her potential to be a slave for a man she loves. I blushed and added the potential is there even for a woman following her heart's hope to remain with a man she wants to..needs to..know more of. There is something underlying here, something unspoken in the ribbons of the spoken that I have not yet unscrambled. It tickles at my mind when I think of it, but I have yet to put those feelings into a place I can understand.

I wanted to know where He put all theses emotions. I have seen Him only once, tangle with another. I have felt His grumpiness, His brooding, but not His open fury. I knew He must be dealing with a whole slew of thoughts at this point. The simple fact that He was here told me that much. The rigid composure underscored it. I asked if it all went into working the leather. Where -do- men learn to put all that pain and fear and hurt and joy and delight? I am a woman, I cry. It comes when everything boils up and needs let go. It often leaves me empty, sometimes it deepens every feeling all the more intently. My Master tucks His away, hides them, locks them into a chest. I wonder if they ever ease for Him in that way, or if they ever get a chance to grow. I felt pleasantly touched that He could speak to me of such things.

By this point I realized, the leather was a focal point that kept Him grounded. I asked if He was angry about Karvek's actions and His answer proved once more to me that He is my Hero. It was not only His words, but His actions that showed me. He said He felt protective of His property. The care and concern were what I saw. I couldn't imagine anyone being under better protection and I told Him so. As extra conviction to my own words I offered my aid, in whatever capacity it might be. I believed with all my heart there was none better to belong to, and I whole heartedly took up His cause as my own.

Then He asked me a question.