![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
volurofthehearthIt had seemed like a good idea at the time.
I'd never seen Isidor more comfortable than when we were training. It was where I first saw her in casual clothes, and where I first saw her laugh with genuine delight. If we were going to discuss something uncomfortable, I wanted it to be somewhere she felt confident and safe.
We had gone from twice a week to three times a week after my wedding. The first two hours were always with her trainer, catching me up on basics she'd learned as a child and refining her own technique. Lately she'd started scheduling in extra sessions where the two of us could practice alone. At first I thought she felt I needed it, but now… now I was starting to think she was hiding.
"I met Zandros," I'd started while we were running through a sequence. "He's very handsome."
"I guess." Isidor's brow furrowed but she looked intent on focusing on her motions.
"And he's very friendly."
Isidor huffed a sigh. "He definitely smiles a lot."
It was hard not to laugh at that. She was right, he did smile a lot, which contrasted Isidor's typically severe expressions. I smothered my amusement into a smile and continued, "Do you like him?"
"Did you like Viatorus when you first met him?" Isidor asked in return, not missing a beat with her retort or her parry.
"Yes. Almost immediately." That wasn't the answer she was hoping for, but it was true. "But I liked him much more when I got to know him better."
She didn't even blink. "Good."
"Perhaps if you got to know Zandros better…"
Suddenly I was on the ground, the weight of her knee on my back, my arm nearly pulled out of my socket. I swear I'd been standing exactly as I'd been taught just a second ago. "Who talked to you?"
It was worse than when Luna would wrestle me for the phone. "Ow, ow, ow! Isidor!"
My arm tugged further and I started to worry that what I was feeling was a slow dislocation. Her voice became ice. "Was it my mother?"
"No!" My eyes were watering so badly I couldn't see. "No, it wasn't! Please stop! It hurts!"
She didn't move. "Stathis?"
"No!"
This time she sounded frustrated when she asked, "Who then?"
Terrified for my arm I yelped, "Zandros!"
"Zandros?"
"Yes!" I whimpered. "Please stop!"
My hand slammed into the floor with a hard bang and I winced as I pulled it towards my face. The second the weight lifted from my back I inhaled deeply and got up, coughing. I'd never been good at dealing with pain or discomfort, but I'd never expected to be so frightened by my sister-in-law. Tears ran down my face, spurred on my the throbbing pain in my shoulder and the sharp crack through my heart. Cradling my arm, my face was as angry as I could make it beneath the hurt when I turned to her. "Why would you do that?"
"Why would I do that?" Isidor blinked at me after she got up, and then scowled. "Why would you do that?"
"Do what?" I snapped.
Immediately she bristled, as if my ignorance offended her. "Spy on me! Prod and pry and try to manipulate my feelings!"
"I'm not trying to spy on you! Or manipulate your feelings!" Where did she get that notion from? Had I ever seemed like that kind of person?
"Yes! You are!" Each word finished with a bite.
"I'm just trying to help you," I sobbed.
She jabbed a finger in my direction and then flung her hand away. "You're trying to help him! He's not family! He's a stranger, an outsider!"
"I used to be him!" My voice was louder, harsher than I expected, cutting through the argument like a jagged knife. The small, stunned silence gave me a brief opportunity and I instinctively took it. "I used to be the outsider! I still am! I used to wonder what would make Viatorus happy! I used to wonder how to gain your approval! I was the one who felt judged at every dinner, at every lunch. I was the one trying so hard to learn another culture, another history, and being terrified of messing it up at every step. I was the one desperate to show you all how much I wanted to be a good wife."
My lips wobbled. "I'm not so bad… am I?"
Isidor stared at me with the cool, impassive stare of a Durant.
Eventually she turned around and picked up her bag. "Get your things. We have lunch in an hour." At the door, she hesitated. "Runa, I like you… But don't ever try to spy on me again."
I'd never seen Isidor more comfortable than when we were training. It was where I first saw her in casual clothes, and where I first saw her laugh with genuine delight. If we were going to discuss something uncomfortable, I wanted it to be somewhere she felt confident and safe.
We had gone from twice a week to three times a week after my wedding. The first two hours were always with her trainer, catching me up on basics she'd learned as a child and refining her own technique. Lately she'd started scheduling in extra sessions where the two of us could practice alone. At first I thought she felt I needed it, but now… now I was starting to think she was hiding.
"I met Zandros," I'd started while we were running through a sequence. "He's very handsome."
"I guess." Isidor's brow furrowed but she looked intent on focusing on her motions.
"And he's very friendly."
Isidor huffed a sigh. "He definitely smiles a lot."
It was hard not to laugh at that. She was right, he did smile a lot, which contrasted Isidor's typically severe expressions. I smothered my amusement into a smile and continued, "Do you like him?"
"Did you like Viatorus when you first met him?" Isidor asked in return, not missing a beat with her retort or her parry.
"Yes. Almost immediately." That wasn't the answer she was hoping for, but it was true. "But I liked him much more when I got to know him better."
She didn't even blink. "Good."
"Perhaps if you got to know Zandros better…"
Suddenly I was on the ground, the weight of her knee on my back, my arm nearly pulled out of my socket. I swear I'd been standing exactly as I'd been taught just a second ago. "Who talked to you?"
It was worse than when Luna would wrestle me for the phone. "Ow, ow, ow! Isidor!"
My arm tugged further and I started to worry that what I was feeling was a slow dislocation. Her voice became ice. "Was it my mother?"
"No!" My eyes were watering so badly I couldn't see. "No, it wasn't! Please stop! It hurts!"
She didn't move. "Stathis?"
"No!"
This time she sounded frustrated when she asked, "Who then?"
Terrified for my arm I yelped, "Zandros!"
"Zandros?"
"Yes!" I whimpered. "Please stop!"
My hand slammed into the floor with a hard bang and I winced as I pulled it towards my face. The second the weight lifted from my back I inhaled deeply and got up, coughing. I'd never been good at dealing with pain or discomfort, but I'd never expected to be so frightened by my sister-in-law. Tears ran down my face, spurred on my the throbbing pain in my shoulder and the sharp crack through my heart. Cradling my arm, my face was as angry as I could make it beneath the hurt when I turned to her. "Why would you do that?"
"Why would I do that?" Isidor blinked at me after she got up, and then scowled. "Why would you do that?"
"Do what?" I snapped.
Immediately she bristled, as if my ignorance offended her. "Spy on me! Prod and pry and try to manipulate my feelings!"
"I'm not trying to spy on you! Or manipulate your feelings!" Where did she get that notion from? Had I ever seemed like that kind of person?
"Yes! You are!" Each word finished with a bite.
"I'm just trying to help you," I sobbed.
She jabbed a finger in my direction and then flung her hand away. "You're trying to help him! He's not family! He's a stranger, an outsider!"
"I used to be him!" My voice was louder, harsher than I expected, cutting through the argument like a jagged knife. The small, stunned silence gave me a brief opportunity and I instinctively took it. "I used to be the outsider! I still am! I used to wonder what would make Viatorus happy! I used to wonder how to gain your approval! I was the one who felt judged at every dinner, at every lunch. I was the one trying so hard to learn another culture, another history, and being terrified of messing it up at every step. I was the one desperate to show you all how much I wanted to be a good wife."
My lips wobbled. "I'm not so bad… am I?"
Isidor stared at me with the cool, impassive stare of a Durant.
Eventually she turned around and picked up her bag. "Get your things. We have lunch in an hour." At the door, she hesitated. "Runa, I like you… But don't ever try to spy on me again."
