Ensi's Journal [Ensi/Original Character]
Jan. 3rd, 2017 07:47 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
roesslyngTitle: Ensi's Journal
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Ensi/Original Female Character
Rating: 0+
Length: 850~ words
Summary: The logbook is old, but it's served her well enough. She keeps her writing small, and doesn't bother noting the date - even if she writes down many other things.
Other:som_fics requested something with Ensi and her original Saami character for Silent Night Exchange, and I just couldn't resist. :D [Original Post]
Ensi's Journal
Most of the people my parents take in leave eventually. But she didn't. Hasn't. Yet. She's still here. I don't mind. She isn't an idiot, and she's useful.
Clear conditions. Bright sky. Snow was good. No wind. She was waiting for me when I got back, even though it was early. She walked with me and then stayed close by as I made my report.
She hasn't left yet. I don't know if she'll ever leave.
It's odd. I don't mind it. I don't mind her.
There is something hanging around here. It used to be a deer, maybe. I tracked it but wasn't able to take care of it tonight. When I came home, I told her. She said she'll come with me tomorrow. I can take care of it myself. I don't need a spotter. At least she can keep up with me. I'll sharpen her knife for her before I go to sleep.
We found it. It's gone. I tracked it and flushed it out but she caught up to it. I don't know how. It doesn't matter. She helped me get rid of it, that's the important part.
Her face lights up whenever she sees me. I noticed ita month ago two months ago a while ago.
I don't understand her magic. She sings. She sings wordless songs, and the earth answers. The land answers. It loves her.
A miserable night. Wouldn't stop raining. No moon. Could barely see my hand in front of my face. It was cold when I got back. But she was there. She had tea and blankets, and after I dried off it was fine. She sat close to me. I don't know what to do. I don't know.
She's like a moon in winter. Bright all through the day, and doesn't disturb my sleep.
Veeti says I have a lot on my mind lately. Veeti should mind his own business. (Veeti had better not be reading this book, unless he wants to get strung up by his own guts. Don't you think I wouldn't do it, cousin.)
Every day, she waits. Why?
I keep my mind closed. But I let her in. I let her in.she broke my spells My dream opened for her. It knows she isn't dangerous, and it opened for her, because I know she isn't dangerous. Not dangerous to me. And I didn't cast her out.
She makes me think of clear nights, bright moon lighting my way leaving no footprints behind as I go. Air cool enough to stay alert but not the kind that pinches the lungs. She is safe travel clear scouting brightness cold soothing lakewater on tired feet warm hands on my shoulders at the night's end what is happening here how is she getting to me why is she so close to me what
She knows.
No activity outside for the last few days. It makes the work easier, but boring. She's there when I come back, at least.
Bright moon tonight. Shorter night than before. Clear going. Not for long. The thaw will come soon. Work will be harder. It doesn't matter. I can do it.
Bad night. Something has been prowling nearby. Along the walls. I set out to get rid of it. Tracked it. Picked a bad night for it. Conditions suboptimal. Wind and snow. It found me first. I took care of it, but it attacked. Too much blood. She was worried when I came back, kept fussing, wouldn't listen when I said that the important thing was that it was gone.
It aches. Not the wound. The wound is fine. She cleaned it, stitched me up, hummed while she did it. Something inside aches, and it doesn't make sense, and I don't understand it. It doesn't make sense.
Looks at me like she can see right through me. Maybe she can. I don't understand her magic. She says she can see the future, too, sometimes. When she takes her drum and works her craft, does things her way. So maybe she can see what I'm feeling, too. Or maybe she just knows.
She was waiting when I came back again. She's still waiting. Again. While I write my log. Not watching. She is sewing, repairing my jacket, the one that got torn while I was working. I didn't ask her to do this. I can do it myself. But she is doing it. She has a steady hand and her stitches are better than mine. They'll hold better than my patches. She is humming soft and slow and I am tired. She is singing without words and I can't keep my eyes open. All I want – [Illegible]
She was in my head. She came into me. Came in to me. Visited me. Took my hands and said she was worried. Told me to be more careful. And her hands were warm and her face was warm and her nose was cold and the wind in my mind blew and swished her bright skirt and she said she could have left but she wanted to stay.
I'm not writing down the rest. It's between the two of us.
From now on, it's going to be the two of us.
Fandom: Stand Still Stay Silent
Characters/Pairing: Ensi/Original Female Character
Rating: 0+
Length: 850~ words
Summary: The logbook is old, but it's served her well enough. She keeps her writing small, and doesn't bother noting the date - even if she writes down many other things.
Other:
som_fics requested something with Ensi and her original Saami character for Silent Night Exchange, and I just couldn't resist. :D [Original Post]Ensi's Journal
Most of the people my parents take in leave eventually. But she didn't. Hasn't. Yet. She's still here. I don't mind. She isn't an idiot, and she's useful.
Clear conditions. Bright sky. Snow was good. No wind. She was waiting for me when I got back, even though it was early. She walked with me and then stayed close by as I made my report.
She hasn't left yet. I don't know if she'll ever leave.
It's odd. I don't mind it. I don't mind her.
There is something hanging around here. It used to be a deer, maybe. I tracked it but wasn't able to take care of it tonight. When I came home, I told her. She said she'll come with me tomorrow. I can take care of it myself. I don't need a spotter. At least she can keep up with me. I'll sharpen her knife for her before I go to sleep.
We found it. It's gone. I tracked it and flushed it out but she caught up to it. I don't know how. It doesn't matter. She helped me get rid of it, that's the important part.
Her face lights up whenever she sees me. I noticed it
I don't understand her magic. She sings. She sings wordless songs, and the earth answers. The land answers. It loves her.
A miserable night. Wouldn't stop raining. No moon. Could barely see my hand in front of my face. It was cold when I got back. But she was there. She had tea and blankets, and after I dried off it was fine. She sat close to me. I don't know what to do. I don't know.
She's like a moon in winter. Bright all through the day, and doesn't disturb my sleep.
Veeti says I have a lot on my mind lately. Veeti should mind his own business. (Veeti had better not be reading this book, unless he wants to get strung up by his own guts. Don't you think I wouldn't do it, cousin.)
Every day, she waits. Why?
I keep my mind closed. But I let her in. I let her in.
She makes me think of clear nights, bright moon lighting my way leaving no footprints behind as I go. Air cool enough to stay alert but not the kind that pinches the lungs. She is safe travel clear scouting brightness cold soothing lakewater on tired feet warm hands on my shoulders at the night's end what is happening here how is she getting to me why is she so close to me what
She knows.
No activity outside for the last few days. It makes the work easier, but boring. She's there when I come back, at least.
Bright moon tonight. Shorter night than before. Clear going. Not for long. The thaw will come soon. Work will be harder. It doesn't matter. I can do it.
Bad night. Something has been prowling nearby. Along the walls. I set out to get rid of it. Tracked it. Picked a bad night for it. Conditions suboptimal. Wind and snow. It found me first. I took care of it, but it attacked. Too much blood. She was worried when I came back, kept fussing, wouldn't listen when I said that the important thing was that it was gone.
It aches. Not the wound. The wound is fine. She cleaned it, stitched me up, hummed while she did it. Something inside aches, and it doesn't make sense, and I don't understand it. It doesn't make sense.
Looks at me like she can see right through me. Maybe she can. I don't understand her magic. She says she can see the future, too, sometimes. When she takes her drum and works her craft, does things her way. So maybe she can see what I'm feeling, too. Or maybe she just knows.
She was waiting when I came back again. She's still waiting. Again. While I write my log. Not watching. She is sewing, repairing my jacket, the one that got torn while I was working. I didn't ask her to do this. I can do it myself. But she is doing it. She has a steady hand and her stitches are better than mine. They'll hold better than my patches. She is humming soft and slow and I am tired. She is singing without words and I can't keep my eyes open. All I want – [Illegible]
She was in my head. She came into me. Came in to me. Visited me. Took my hands and said she was worried. Told me to be more careful. And her hands were warm and her face was warm and her nose was cold and the wind in my mind blew and swished her bright skirt and she said she could have left but she wanted to stay.
I'm not writing down the rest. It's between the two of us.
From now on, it's going to be the two of us.
