Chapter Text
Quynh nipped on her cup of tea. She sat on a cushion on some sort of porch above a wide yard. Broad panels of thick, woven cloth protected her from the pouring rain and she watched the men train down in the yard. Despite wearing the same saffron-yellow clothes and having his head shaved, Nicolò stood out like a sore thumb. He was taller by almost two heads than all of the other monks and his skin was still pale. His wet hair hung into his eyes and the wet clothes clung to his body.
He moved almost as fluently as the other monks now she had to admit and he was calmer lately. Whatever Abbot Duc had done with him, it had helped. They were here for five months now and yesterday he had told her that he had slept the whole night.
Quynh had used the time they needed to come here to teach Nicolò her language and he had complained a lot. He had said he never thought there could be a more complicated language than Yusuf’s. But he had managed it and Quynh was impressed. She had needed way more time to learn Lykon’s language back then.
“You should join them,” a voice said behind her and she turned her head. Abbot Duc stood behind her, a smile on his lips.
“I’m a woman,” she said. “I thought it’s not allowed?”
Abbot Duc’s smile broadened and he sat down beside her.
“I welcomed you here,” he said. Quynh reached for an empty cup, handed it to him with a bow and filled it with hot tea only a moment later. Abbot Duc thanked her and took a sip.
“I’m just here to help him,” she said when the Abbot had placed the cup on the small table.
“He never told me what happened,” the old man said and took a deep breath. It wasn’t a question or a way to get information out of her, just stating a fact.
“Humans are horrible sometimes,” Quynh said. The Abbot just looked at her.
Together they watched the men move in the yard and Quynh smiled, when she saw Nicolò master one of the moves he never managed so far.
“He’s doing better now,” she said and the Abbot nodded.
“You can stay as long as you need. Both of you,” the old man said and now he looked at her, an unreadable expression on his face.
They both were quiet for another long moment, just watching the monks in the yard and listening to the rain on the roofs of the monastery and the jungle trees surrounding them.
“I’m all right,” she said after a long while and reached for her cup again.
Abbot Duc rose, nodded and smiled when he walked away, down into the rain and to the men training in the yard. He talked to them quietly and they sat down in rows, ignoring the water pouring down on them. They all looked at the Abbot who took the seat in front of them, their legs crossed, their hands on their knees.
For a moment Quynh thought about writing a letter to Andromache but she knew she had no way to send it to her. So she just took her mug and drank more tea, watching the men meditate.
It had taken Nicolò even more time to manage that.
With a sigh Quynh leaned back in her cushions, closed her eyes and listened to the rain… and startled awake when she sensed someone nearby.
“I didn’t want to startle you,” Nicolò said and sat down on the cushion beside her.
“I… apparently I fell asleep,” Quynh murmured, rubbed her eyes and yawned.
“Did Andromache ever tell you that you snore?” he smiled. Quynh glared at him and his smile broadened.
“I don’t snore,” she grumbled. Nicolò hung his head but chuckled quietly. Quynh couldn’t hold back a smile herself. It was nice to see him smile.
“Tea?” she asked and he nodded.
“How long are we going to stay?” he asked when she handed him the cup.
“As long as you need to stay,” she said earnestly and looked him in the eyes.
Nicolò took a sip from the tea and stared into the cup.
“How do I know if I’m ready?” he then asked.
“You will know,” she said and Nicolò laughed again.
“Now you sound a lot like Abbot Duc,” he said, the smile back on his lips.
“That’s why we’re related,” Quynh said, grinning now. Nicolò looked up and furrowed his brows.
“Really?” he asked.
“I had a few sisters, back then,” she said. “One of my sisters had a daughter and the daughter had a son and so on and so on… he’s technically my great-great-great-great-great-great-and some more-grandnephew.”
“Your… oh… uh… wow,” Nicolò blurted. “And… does he know?”
“About us? What we are?” Quynh asked and when Nicolò nodded she nodded as well.
“Yes,” she said. “That’s why I chose this monastery.”
“Oh,” Nicolò said again.
“He’s a good man and he really wants to help you,” she said. “As long as it takes.”
“But Andromache and… and Yusuf?”
“They are fine,” Quynh said. “And if we’re not there on this date they will come back a year later. And another year later until we meet again.”
“How do you know?” Nicolò asked.
“I know Andromache,” Quynh shrugged. “That’s what we did before.”
Nicolò nodded and took another sip from his tea. He watched her for a while and Quynh let him. He needed to sort out his thoughts.
“You miss her,” he said matter of factly. He didn’t mention Yusuf though.
“I would lie if I said no,” she smiled. “But for now it is more important for you to heal.”
“I’m not injured,” Nicolò said but Quynh knew that he knew what she meant. But she said it nevertheless.
“Your soul needs to heal, little brother,” she told him. “And we will stay as long as you need to heal.”
Nicolò looked at her, again with his usual unreadable expression. Quynh reached out and placed her hand on his and for the first time since she met him he didn’t flinch.