"Oh but boch, ye don't need to go! Stay here, I'm sure there's a balach here for ye!" The woman wrung her hands together, eyebrows knitted. She had black and purple hair, wrapped up into a high bun and hazel eyes. In front of her, a girl just turned a woman was packing her travelling roll. She had the same black hair, with red splices through it. Her figure was that of an acrobat or a dancer and she moved with an air of confidence. Looking up at the older woman with deep chocolate brown eyes, Sarinah smiled at her.

"Daoa, I'm not a boch anymore. Besides, I want to settle down somewhere perminant. Like Durg says, settling down is the new way. And Dorhaven isn't it for me." Reaching out, she held her mothers hand.

"I'll be fine. Honestly. It's only Vienda. How bad can it be?"

----

It was late, really late. And it was clocking cold. And she didn't really build much of a fire. Shivering and pulling her blanket closer, the witch held on tightly to her sai's. Strange noises came from the darkened forest and she scooted closer to the dismal fire.

"Vrunta! What was I thinking? This is stupid." She spoke to keep herself company. It was very lonely out here, she didn't realize that wanting to be alone and actually being alone were two very different things. Slowly, as the night wore on, she slept in small bursts. At the first hint of sunlight, she packed up and moved on, heading down the road that lead to Vienda. She hoped.

----

"Hesta! My name is Sarinah, I heard that you've got positions for entertainers going here!" She smiled like crazy. In front of her, a man stood, eyeing her up and down in a way that made her feel incredibly icky. The place itself was not exactly a nice spot either. It was very red and very smelly. The women in here were awfully exposed as well. It made the young woman blush and she tried not to look at them. In front of her, the man made a face.

"What exactly can you do girly?" Sarinah bit her lip.

"I uh, I can read tarots and palms. And I can juggle too!" She could see him thinking.

"I think...I have a little spot for you. Just come back here so we can discuss your contract. By the way, you can call me Cook."

----

She cartwheeled, spun and then turned around. No one was even looking at her. There was only one person there anyways. Cook stood behind the bar looking at her with a frown. Sighing she jumped off the stage and walked over, tugging down the edges of her skirt. The dress belonged to one of the other girls and it was terribly exposing. And tight. Cook shook his head as she approached.

"Listen girly, I like you, I do. But...the customers dont. Your..not interesting." He shrugged.

"If you want to keep working here, your gonna have to do something more exciting, or join the rest of the girls out the back. Any girl is talented on her back." The black haired witch's eyes flew open and she gasped.

"I...I...please...I'll do something! I promise. Just...I..." She floundered. Where else would she get money and a roof over her head? It was so hard to get a job as a wick in Vienda. No one wanted her. Cook raised an eyebrow and pointed at her.

"You have one week to show me why you aint just another tumble."

----

The girl sat in her room, staring at the mirror. Is this worth it? Just go home! Looking at herself, she sighed. Standing, she walked over to the door and opened it. Slowly walking down the hallway, she tried to ignore the grunts and noises from behind the other doors, it made her want to vomit.

"Psst!" A sound came from the door beside her. She turned her head and noticed a blonde girl sticking her head out. Sarinah smiled at her.

"Caterina, hello."

"In 'ere luv!" Following the woman into her room, she frowned, confused. The blonde smiled at her and gestured her to sit.

"I know what Cook's bin sayin' to ye luv. I don't wanna see ye in here with the rest of us tumbles." The young wick shook her head.

"Don't call yourself that Caterina. Your still a person!" Waving her off, the heavyset blonde continued.

"There is a type of dance I was being taught back before I came 'ere. It's usually saved fer private places fer th' one ye care about, but I think with yer body an' th' way ye move, ye could pull it off as an act on th' stage. An' th' menfolk would be throwing their coin at ye. Cook would be happy, an' ye wouldn't have to give up yer goods, know what I mean?" Sarinah nodded slowly and tears came to her eyes.

"Thank you! Oh Caterina, thank you!" She hugged the blonde woman and stepped back.

"What do I need to do?" Caterina stood, hands on hips, eyeing the younger girl.

"Firstly, let yer hair down. Men are fascinated by long hair like yer own. Secondly," She moved to her dresser and pulled out a black leathery outfit, throwing it to the girl. "Put that there on." Sarinah quickly complied, pulling her hair out of the ponytail it was perpetually in. It fell in thick black and red waves, with a slight curl. Changing into the outfit, she held her arms around her stomach.

"I can't wear this! I...you...its too exposed!" Caterina gave her a look and she slowly dropped her hands. Coming over to the girl, the older tumble pulled out black kohl and red lipstick, painting the girls eyes and lips. Stepping back, she pointed at the mirror. Sarinah turned slowly and looked at herself. She felt her heart drop at the sight. She looked...dirty. Caterina put a hand on her shoulder and spoke in her ear.

"You need to act confident, like every man in the world is your slave and you are the most beautiful woman in the world." Standing with her hands on her hips, she smirked at the mirror. Sarinah moved her hands to mimick the woman, and gave her mirror image the most smouldering look she could conjure. Caterina grinned.

"Aye, thats the way! Now, let's show ye how to dance."

----

Sarinah spun and twirled, cllimbing the pole with her thighs and hands, locking her legs so she could lean right back. The thick crowd in Cooks whooped and threw coins on the stage. Already, her purse was bulging with the donations she recieved before dancing. Behind the bar Cook grinned widely, nodding his approval. Spinning around and cartwheeling off the pole, the girl gave a little bow and walked off, approaching her employer, sauntering through the crowds.

"Ye look pleased kov, like what ye see?" Laughing, Cook waggled a finger at her.

"I was just recalling when you first came here Sarinah, it's been a while now, and I can't believe the same shy, intimidated tarot reader is standing in front of me. You bring in so much business, I'd be a fool to ever, ever let you leave." His smile became a little harsh.

"Ever."

The dancer laughed lightly and leaned over to run a finger along his jaw, eyes smouldering.

"What make's ye think I'd ever leave Cookie? Ging is ging, and this ging is good." Winking, she stood up straight.

"It's Clocks Eve though kov, can I go? I promise you'll see me in the evening tomorrow." Cook waved a hand.

"Off with you girly, have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" With that, she gave him a little wave and slinked out through the men and out the door. Once outside, her face fell and she shook her head.

She was going to die in Cooks. Where was the big handsome man that was going to marry her and settle them down in a house. Where was the girl that had that dream? Sarinah knew where she was. She'd been buried under makeup, false confidence and the knowledge she would never be free.

Ever.

(( ))