A Court of Wind and Song

35: Spill

Nesta

Leur got one singular look at Gwyn at training yesterday, and immediately drug us both down to her sewing room when Cassian was done with us today. And like most people, Gwyn couldn't bring herself to say no to Leur. I was standing here, watching as she took the priestess's measurements, holding up swatches of fabric and thread up to her as they smiled and laughed. They talked as if they had known each other for years, not twenty minutes.

And there was some part of me that was happy... seeing my two friends getting along.

Was that what they were, my friends?

A fitting title for Gwyn, and yet- it seemed as if it didn't encompass what Leur was. An older sister, a mother, a cousin, a friend- I didn't know what word I was looking for.

"Did your mother teach you how to do all of this?" Gwyn asked.

Leur wasn't dressed in her typical leathers today. Actually, it might have been one of the first times I had seen her in anything other than leathers, armor, or a sweater. She was wearing a workdress like the Illyrian women do, looking almost entirely like one of them in the full, aproned skirt, corset, and lace undertop. Her curly hair wasn't braided for once, but rather pulled up into a loose bun on the top of her head.

Why she had chosen to wear this today, I had no idea. I'd ask but-

"Some things." Leur answered Gwyn, "I learned most of this from watching her do it so many times."

"That's so sweet." Gwyn smiled down at her, "What a lovely memory to get to carry with you."

Leur just smiled, "Nesta, can you bring me the other book of fabric swatches? It's in the work room in the back."

I'd never gone back there, but I just nodded, "Sure."

Nestled between the rows of shelves in the back of the room, a wooden door was propped open with a basket of yarn. I slipped inside, faelights spurring to life as I did so. And then I just stopped.

Hundreds, maybe even thousands of designs pinned on cork boards on the walls. All of them hand drawn. Some written in handwriting I recognized as Leur's, visions of all different types of clothes. Leathers, training outfits, casual dresses, gowns. I recognized the figures she drew too. They weren't just designs, each one was made for someone. Three different females with the same color hair- me and my sisters, another female with bright blonde hair- Mor, some for herself, some for Amren, even a few for Azriel and the other males.

And others, they were older.

The paper was just a bit browned, slightly dusty, written in handwriting I did not recognize. Small, practical writing, detailed images of the quirks for each design.

And every single design featured either a male or female model with violet-black hair. Outfits for babies, toddlers, children, adults.

Those were Hashna's designs for her children.

Hundreds of them, as if most of the woman's time went towards designing things for Rhys and Leur.

And all around, mannequins and racks of clothes. Priceless items. I recognized some from both mother and daughter's drawings. A gown made of shimmering peach chiffon for Elain on a mannequin in the center of the room, two different sets of leathers half-finished and laid out on one of the tables, a gown of violet and gold embroidery, a male's jacket of navy blue and silver, some tulle pinned on another mannequin to create a beautiful skirt. Layers of black and silver, sequin stars sewn into the top layer. Hand stitched.

And on the table next to it, a design of what the full dress would be- created on a model with light brown hair, braided in a coil around her head.

For me, this dress was for me.