Always Two There Are...

[Adelaide d'Aquitaine]

Always two there are...
A master and an apprentice.

"Marcelline, hey?" Ada asked, leaning against the counter as Rose cleaned the surface with a damp rag. "French?"

"I would hope so, with such an unfortunate name. But, as she overcame the name, so too can she overcome her nationality."

Ada rolled her eyes. "You are as sweet as your name, do not let anyone tell you different," the healer responded. "Thank you, Rose. Oh! And will you tell her, come to my shop as quickly as she is able, and we shall see."

Rose made her promise and Ada scooted out of the Briar Rose before she was chased out. She went back to her shop and busied herself with customers, the flow of traffic just heavy enough that Ada did not notice the time passing by. Toward the end of the day, when the sun began to cast the air in a strange reddish glow, Ada heard the bell tinkle over her door.

A young woman stood in the doorway, a combination of fierce and timid that Ada found utterly charming. She was like the cat in her still room, who poked his head out of the cracked doorway to investigate strange-smelling customers, only to retreat back to his rug and hope Ada was capable of defending herself. Her little soot-colored ball of fluff was a tiger, Ada was convinced. And so was this young woman, who was built like a thirteen-year-old boy from the neck down, but beneath the huge mop of red frizz, her figure was not exactly the first thing noticeable. She had witch's eyes of bright green, which caught the fading light with a sharp ferocity. Luckily for Ada, she was also a good head taller than the healer, and capable of reaching the higher shelves.

"Marcelline, yes?"

"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied with a bob of her head.

"Help me carry these plants back for watering." Ada indicated the other tray, lifting her own and taking care that her seedlings would not topple over. Between the two of them, they made it past the nameless cat in the still room and out to the pump. Ada produced enough water to fill a few cups, and gently gave their contents to the plants. The women then brought the seedlings back indoors.

"How much experience do you have working with plants?" she asked.

"A little bit. My father was a farmer," Marcelline supplied. "I have my own room and I'm a quick learner."

"Sweep? Mop? Spiders?" Ada asked next, her eyes drifting up to the beams overhead, where she waged her constant war with the spiders to keep her shop cobweb-free. "How is your English?"

Marcelline nodded to each of the questions, her green eyes tracking upwards to the invisible cobwebs. But she returned her gaze to the smallish healer woman. Marcelline tried not to pay any heed to rumors in the marketplace, but those surrounding Ada certainly were engrossing. But it was hard to match the woman leaning with one arm on the counter, her dark eyes more concerned with dust and customers, to the one who had a witch's familiar and a strange power over men. No, the Ada in person very much resembled what Marcelline had imagined to be the truth. Ada went down to the docks at least once or twice a week to see to those who were working too many hours to afford a trip to the apothecary, dispensing medicines for conditions that were far too embarrassing to ever seek treatment. Ada was good at what she did, compassionate in every aspect of life, and if being good at what one did made one a witch, well -- Marcelline could only hope to be among them. Marcelline's berry-colored lips smiled slowly. "Better than yours, madam."

Ada laughed and held out her hand. Honesty and wit were qualities she valued high among many. She was grateful when Marcelline's long fingers clasped Ada's in return. "Let us talk pay, yes?"