Matchmaking work

Mayra walked along the shoreline with one of the men who hadn't gone fishing, who was anxiously waiting for a bride. His name was Gordon, and he seemed a kind, but perhaps dim, fellow.

"What are you looking for in a wife?" She asked him as they walked, sending an annoyed glance over her shoulder.

Peter walked several paces behind them. Gordon was unwilling to discuss these things with the Klain soldier, and had insisted he follow behind instead of participating.

Peter had complied with mild amusement. He had told Mayra he thought the man just wanted time alone with her. She was irritated by the assumption, and her continuing glances back at him informed him so.

All because Gordon had asked Mayra to dance once or twice at the wedding last night. Peter was insufferable! 

"I don't care what she looks like. I mean, that is, of course she'll be beautiful," Gordon amended, "I want a woman who is brave, and speaks her mind, and smart."

"What if her opinions are different than yours when she speaks her mind? How will you resolve the conflict?" Mayra concentrated on making mental notes.

"She'd probably be right, I guess," Gordon scratched the back of his neck, a little confused.

"Gordon," When she said his name, his posture snapped to attention, "I'm not asking you to say what you THINK you should say. Just be honest. Maybe tell me more about yourself, so I can think about what kind of woman would fit best with you."

"Oh," The man paused. "I like fishing."

Peter snickered, and Mayra suppressed a sigh.

"What else?" She smiled at Gordon.

"Dancing," He said slowly, looking at Mayra. Peter's quiet laughter stopped.

"That's good, I'm told that Rhone has many traditional dances, so the girls are likely to enjoy it as well," The woman encouraged. Gordon frowned. "Anything else?"

"I like walking together on the sand," He finished, and seemed proud of himself for thinking of it.

"What's that over there, high up in the trees?" Mayra suddenly asked, pointing to a plume of smoke coming from a forested area. "Does the settlement extend so far?"

"No, there's other people," Gordon said. "Not many. Not Cetoans. Just a few families that live up in the trees and live land lives. We trade very rarely with them."

"I'd love to meet them!" Mayra declared, and left the sandy beach behind.

The two men followed her, both frowning.

"Mayra, are you sure that running off to meet strangers is the best idea?" Peter asked in what must have been the most diplomatic tone he could muster. 

"Right now? Yes I am," Mayra said. She was desperate to end the conversation before Gordon proved Peter right by continuing his clumsy attempts to flirt with her. "Besides, they might have some insight into the Sea People that I am lacking, and that the Cetoans cannot see about themselves. People are often blind to their own greatest triumphs and shortcomings, you know."

"It shocks me that you can say that without realizing the irony in the least," Peter muttered.

"What do you mean?" The woman smiled a warning at him, but the young man didn't heed it. 

"Not a thing, I'm sure," He rolled his eyes, "only that being blind to your own shortcomings isn't limited to others."

"Mayra has no shortcomings!" Gordon declared.

"Thank you, Gordon," Mayra stopped, and turned to him, "but you're quite wrong. Although Peter may not realize it, I am well aware of my many shortcomings."

She whirled away and walked quickly in the direction of the smoke, leaving the two men behind in confusion for a moment before they ran to catch up.

Her years of hunting herbs and game with her mother in the forest of her home gave Mayra an advantage over the two men, one of whom had grown up in a city, and the other who never ventured up into the trees if he didn't need to.

She let her feet be light and wove through the brush, for once very tired of the company of others. She wondered how Naomi was doing on the ship, and hoped everything was all right. When the boat had sailed beyond her sight this morning, Mayra had decided to begin her quest of getting to know the aspiring grooms. Gordon had been the first one she found, and Peter invited himself along despite the man's protests.

"Mayra?" Peter called through the woods after her with a mixture of irritation and concern.

She ducked behind a large tree and suddenly changed direction. It was a common tactic of rabbits, and she used it now to free herself from the male companions she had.

How dare Peter comment on her many shortcomings! Embarrassing her in front of… well, not that she cared what Gordon thought about her. But still, it was a terribly rude thing for the young man to say!

She knew very well how flawed she was. Nosy and over-eager to insert herself into any situation, she often found trouble that way. After meeting Dierdre in all her misery two years ago, she had sobered from that somewhat, but it was impossible to change herself entirely.

Mayra loved seeing people happy, and it always seemed incredibly clear to her exactly WHAT would make people happy, even if they didn't see it themselves.

But she was also human. She could be wrong.

Peter liked to point out every time she was, just like Riley. The pair claimed they were 'keeping her humble'. Occasionally, though, she just wanted to be built up a little bit.

Though her pride was strong, on the other side of it was shame. When she succeeded in an endeavor, her pride flourished, to her detriment. When she failed, the shame ate at her.

It was a consuming task, trying to keep them in balance. She wasn't sure it was possible. Pride was the easier side of things; She could project confidence and succeed in most of what she did.

But she wasn't so sure she could do well in her current undertaking. So many people's happiness depended on them being matched to a person who would complement them well. Although it being random was certainly worse than any educated guesses she could make, it was still nerve-wracking to have the potential to mess up the rest of people's lives.

Naomi had chosen her own path despite Mayra's calls for caution. Perhaps other brides would too. It's possible that ultimately she would be playing almost no role in the matchmaking process.

She sighed and found a fallen log to sit on.

Why did she have to take Peter's comments personally?

He wasn't important enough for his words to effect her. He was mostly her brother's friend and placeholder. Riley's comments occasionally irritated her, but never to this extent. What was the problem now?

Homesickness, maybe? She had been living with Dr. and Mrs. Sherman for a long time now. Being away was different for her. Maybe she wasn't sleeping as well as she thought with the sea so close.

She could hear it through the night. That was probably it, the noise kept her from resting thoroughly, so now she was grumpy.

She stood and moved again. She'd gotten slightly turned around, but that didn't matter to her much right now.

Mayra headed back towards where she imagined the smoke had been coming from. She really did want to meet the families who lived near the shore but weren't Cetoan. She loved getting to know new and interesting people.

Her thoughts wandered to Jimmy, the most interesting mostly-person she knew. He was an enigma, but one she was determined to slowly unravel.

She would regret not being able to visit him, as had become her habit. The quarter-halfing had slowly revealed things about himself to her and Finn, whether willingly or accidentally. He had also been providing Finn with new recipes or tips on growing herbs.

They had discovered that most of the healing concoctions that normal doctors used would become more potent when much higher-quality herbs were used. Jimmy had told them as much before, but the girls had assumed at the time he was talking solely about magical recipes, not regular ones.

Mayra had gone by herself once Finn got too large to make the journey–her poor friend!

She must have given birth by now, if her size was any kind of indication. Mayra's mother had never gotten so large, even with her many children. She felt a pang at not being there for her friend.

This was important work, but still, she smiled at the thought of meeting the new baby when she got to go back.

Coming to a small clearing, Mayra looked around to get her bearings. At the far side, a little girl played with a doll, making her slow and raise her hand in greeting so as not to startle the child.

"Hello! My name's Mayra!" she called out gently. "I think I'm a little lost."

"Oh!" The little girl's brow furrowed, then smoothed. "Are you Roy's friend?"

"I don't think I know someone named Roy," Mayra tried to think through the names of all the Cetoans she knew. "What's your name?"

"Quilina," came the reply.