Natalin fidgeted, casting a look at the table and trying to concel her anxiouness.

It wasn’t like she’d expected to be able to talk to anyone during the party, she told herself. Nothing had changed, and what was she going to do? Demand to sit at her god’s elbow? Takio was already settling himself down onto one of the temple’s cushions, a smile on his face as he called something back to his fellows in a foreign language. Natalin could feel her face burning. Naraani. Of course. Their native language, which also happened to be one she hadn’t learned yet.

Reaching down to pick up the cup, she stepped over to what was going to be her seat, settling in. Takio glanced over at her as she sat down, his orange eyes sharp, but only offered her a nod. Plates appeared on their table a moment later, the servants vanishing as quickly as quickly as they’d come.

When she looked up again, waiting for someone to fill her glass with something a little less potent, it was all she could do to keep from snorting. The serving girl had reached their table, and was pouring Takio something that Efren probably would have liked very much, judging from the smell. She was one of the Ondrians attached to the temple’s service, but Natalin had never seen her before. The girl wasn’t a seer - there wasn’t any reason they’d have crossed paths.

Takio hadn’t given Natalin more than a single look. Clearly, he’d just been saving up on them so that he could stare at her as long as he wanted, murmuring some joke Natalin couldn’t hear. The girl was attractive enough, Natalin had to admit, dressed in a crisp uniform of blue, white, and black with her hair falling down her back in ebony waves. Even still, it was no call to be rude. His eyes trailed after her as she slipped off, giggling.

Natalin swallowed a groan. What a wonderful start. The relationship between Ondria and Naraan was important. Efren and Shiina were siblings, after all, although she knew the relationship was one they’d chosen and not any sort of actual blood tie. Something like that wouldn’t be possible for the Divines. The Tideborn and Charred were supposed to work together, just like their gods did. And here she was, letting the silence stretch out around them and picking at her food.

“I’m Natalin,” she said, half-turning towards her dinner partner. She was still nervous, but the lack of a goddess inches from her face made things much easier. “Welcome. To Ondria, I mean. And Aramoor.” She didn’t speak Naraani, but he’d introduced himself in Ondrian, hadn’t he? Surely he’d understand.

He glanced over at her. Only the slightest flinch in his shoulders gave away that he’d been at all surprised at her suddenly talking. “Yes, I heard,” he said.

“Oh. Right.” She was bright red again, she knew. Stupid. She’d just introduced herself to his goddess. Idiot.

His smirk returning slowly, he arched one eyebrow. “I’m Takio.”

Her eyes fell to the table in front of her, fixing all of her attention on the meal in front of her. She could hardly taste it as she shoveled another bite into her mouth. “I-I know.”

“Right. Well...thanks.”

The sound of conversation rose around them as they fell back into silence. Every now and then one of the seers would wander past. They never seemed to know who to look at - Efren and his Tideborn were theirs, and more than a few adoring gazes were fixed onto the Waterbinder, but most turned inevitably to the Flameweaver and her Charred. That was why they were here, after all. Takio greeted each look with a grin, still sipping away at his drink. Efren and Shiina chattered to each other as fast as they could, none the wiser.

And the quiet dragged on. Takio’s eyes drifted, sweeping across the crowd. More and more, he glanced back towards his fellows, waiting nearby.

“So...uh. What’s Naraan like?” Natalin said, feeling her anxiety begin to creep up more with every second that bored look stayed on his face. “It just...sounds so different. W-What sorts of things do you do, as the Charred?” She tossed sentence after sentence towards him, hoping something would stick and end the horrible quiet.

His brow furrowed as he glanced back at her. “What? I do the usual stuff. We get raiders, now and again. Bandits. Someone’s got to take care of them.” He shook his head, lifting his cup for another drink. “Same stuff you do, I’m sure.”

“Oh, I don’t-” Natalin caught herself, her face dropping down towards the ground before she could say anything. She knew instinctively that she couldn’t tell the Charred that her days were spent inside, practicing with guardsmen and getting lessons from tutors.

“You’re letting him do all that, are you?” Efren’s voice booming across the table was a palpable relief. Natalin drooped, casting a look towards her god. Efren was looking right back, peering over Shiina’s head. He winked one endlessly blue eye at her. His gaze dropped to Shiina a moment later. “Seems a bit dangerous, doesn’t it?”

“I told you,” Shiina sighed. “How else is my child supposed to learn? They must be prepared, after all.”

“And all those scars he’s got?” Efren hadn’t missed it either, then. “You’ve got to be more careful, Shiina.”

She folded her arms, huffing. “I am being perfectly careful, brother. It is not your matter to worry over.”

“Really, Everdeep, thank you for the concern - but it’s misplaced.” Takio said, shaking his head as he slid a hand onto his mistress’s shoulder. “I’m just fine. It’s the job, isn’t it? I’m sure both of you know how it is.”

His eyes flicked to hers at the last words - and his smirk grew a little more. Natalin flinched. It almost seemed like he was...she shook her head fractionally, pushing the thought away. She was tired, and stressed, and jumping at offenses that were never given. Hearing the sound of footsteps approaching, she set about her meal with newfound focus.

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“Ready for us to roll you out of here yet?” a voice behind her said. Natalin looked up, finding a trio of Takio’s Narai companions approaching. Their eyes were fixed on their leader as they circled around, plopping to the ground on the opposite side of the table. The man who’d spoken was tall, with freshly washed red-brown hair. He nodded respectfully to Natalin - and he was speaking Ondrian. A tiny knot in her heart loosened, just a little.

“Just getting started,” Takio said, picking up his fork and grinning at them. “What, couldn’t stand being alone even for dinner?”

“Too many blue-robes, all staring,” one of the others said, chuckling derisively. “At least you’re here to take most of the eyes.”

Takio smacked the man’s hand as he reached in to tweak at the Charred’s cheek. They all laughed.

Natalin stared at her plate, entirely unsure what she should do. Should she introduce herself? Should she defend her clerics? Should she pretend she didn’t hear anything?

For every second she hesitated, doing nothing, the conversation grew between the Narai. Within what seemed like moments they were so deeply involved in their own talk that it would be more rude to interrupt them than to hold her silence. Shiina was surrounded by a crowd of seers, beaming like the sun and throwing her hair this way and that with gusts of sparks.

“Smile, missy.” The voice was harshly accented, but clearly understandable. Her head snapped up. One of the Narai was grinning down at her, tipping his cup back. He wiped his mouth, setting the cup down with a clatter. “You look like you’re about to disappear entirely.”

The blood drained from her face. They were guests - guests of the temple. Her guests. She couldn’t let them think she was bored. A smile slid onto her face with practiced ease, only taking a little longer than usual.

The Narai roared with laughter, their eyes fixed on her. Her smile faltered.

“Ah, where are my manners,” Takio said, waving a hand towards his fellows. “These are Antiel, Juro, and Yorin. Tikeya, Elintel, Reimm, and Kassien are still where they should be sitting.”

“Sorry,” the auburn-haired man stage-whispered, still grinning.

Natalin could only nod, smiling blankly. He’d given her their names, yes, but in one ceaseless stream that left her head spinning. They were all so strange, too, odd syllables and pronunciations entirely different from what she’d known. Antiel. He’d waved at the grinning man first and called him Antiel. She clung to that much, letting the rest fall from her mind with a twinge of regret.

“Natalin,” she said for what seemed like the hundredth time that night, inclining her head in a tiny, polite bow. “Tideborn of Efren. It’s our pleasure to host you and your friends tonight.” There. The practiced words slid out. From the corner of her eye, she could see Gerd nod approvingly at her. He was watching. Of course he was watching.

“Tideborn, eh?” Antiel said, straightening. “Wait, that was you we saw, wasn’t it?”

She stared up at him, completely at a loss for a moment. It was her they’d seen - and yet, she could already see Gerd’s brow furrowing from the table alongside them. His cheeks were red, but his eyes were sharp.

“I-I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re-”

“It was! I’m sure of it!” one of the others said, beginning to laugh. “You were fast, but I remember. I’ve never seen someone sail like that.”

“What, now?” Gerd said, beginning to rise. His expression was beginning to turn stormy.

“You must have be confused with someone else,” Natalin said, falling back on another polite bow as her mind raced. “I’ve been inside the temple for weeks. I’ve only just now seen your group for the first time.

“Weeks?” Takio said, his brow furrowing. “Really? Don’t they let you out?”

All of the color that had drained from her face returned in a surge of heat. “That’s...I’m simply kept very busy with the demands here in Aramoor,” she mumbled. “There is a great deal that needs my attention here.” Like sparring practice, and magic lessons, and healing lessons, and tutoring. It wasn’t quite a lie, but it felt like one.

“Well, that’s all well enough, I’m sure,” Takio said. His brow was still furrowed with confusion, but his eyes drifted across to his companions. His smirk was creeping onto the corners of his lips again, too. “But there are more towns in Ondria than Aramoor, aren’t there? I’m sure they need your attention, too.”

Her shoulders raised another inch, shame and irritation growing inside her in equal measure. “I-I’m simply going where-”

“And you have so much coastline. Surely you have issues with pirating, yes?”

His friends were beginning to chuckle. Even Antiel, although he was polite enough to hide it behind his hand.

Battling coastal pirates? As though she’d be allowed to do something like that. Not that she could admit as much. “I’m...I’m not-”

“But you’ve fought, at least?” His tone was turning scornful even as she listened. “Such is our duty.”

They were all laughing, by then. The sound of it filled her ears, overcoming even the din of the conversations taking place around them.

Her lips parted, her mouth hanging open, but no words presented themselves. He wasn’t wrong - it was her duty, her job. And she’d been told she was too young still, too inexperienced. He was already covered in scars. What had she done? What had she given back to the people who fed and clothed her? Her face burned as she drooped.

A hand slid onto her shoulder. She flinched, glancing up. Gerd leaned over her, smiling horribly. She could smell the liquor wafting off his breath.

“Natalin is doing fine work as the nascent Tideborn,” her steward said, squeezing her shoulder tightly enough she winced. “She learns quickly, despite her youth. As you have seen, she already expands her horizons, growing into her Ascendance.” His words were accompanied by a quick glare down at her. She flinched. He’d heard, then - and understood. The look promised trouble later, but it was overpowered by a pride in his eyes that banished all else.

Takio leaned back, looking to his friends again. “Oh, I’m sure, uh...Diviner. Only, things have hardly been restful in Naraan. I’m sure Ondria has troubles of its own. Wouldn’t she be better served-”

“She is right where she should be,” Gerd said, his voice rising. He swayed gently, still clinging to his drink with his free hand. “When the time is right, she will do what is needed. Whatever you lot have to deal with in Naran, do not think you can walk in here and-”

“All right, all right,” Natalin said hurriedly, more than a little taken aback. She’d never seen the steward react with such vehemence. Smiling gently towards him, where they couldn’t see, she sprang to her feet, steering him away. He was still muttering when she pushed him carefully back into his seat. She hesitated another moment, eyeing the flush in his cheeks, then gave in and refilled his drink from the bottle resting on the table.

“Thanks,” she whispered, flashing him one last wry grin.

He grinned too, the expression seeming totally out of place on the stern man. His hand slid to the back of her neck, holding her in a distant embrace. “I just wish you’d listen to me a little more,” he mumbled.

“I-I do. Really.”

“Ah, well. Go be our Tideborn,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder before letting her go entirely. She drifted away, unsure quite how she should follow that, but finally returned to her seat. There was nowhere else for her to go, after all.

But she smiled, just a little.