Knots

She worked the treadles as she hummed, pulling threads in with the beater in sync with the with the cadence of the tune. It was a slow process and seemed to drag out longer than most of her pieces. Slowly though the silk sheet wound thicker. She tried to hold the image from her reverie in her mind as she worked the thread, keeping the emotion she felt at the time in her throat and allowing it to pull the thread of the weave in. She had sung in that life she was sure, the memory giving her the notes to the tune. The figure in her dream was kneeling over a child. She stopped suddenly, loom and tune both forgotten. It was a grandchild...
 
Her thoughts were interrupted by a cold deep female voice.
“I expect you are hard at work on my next piece Morai.”
The elf tensed immediately at the intrusion but managed to turn with grace and bowed low.
“This work is meant as a means toward that goal, though not the next piece. I have started a new mask for the summer balm.” She said gesturing at a large piece of silk with glass shards spread across it. Among them was a glass mask, suitable for covering 3/4 of one’s face, the eye sockets empty.
The woman drifted past Morai’s bent figure, leaving a trail of mist behind. Morai heard her pick the glass up and waited with held breath.
“No, you will keep this one. It’s too small. Besides, the court should know my own glory even by the appearance of my servants.”
She moved to the bolts of cloth along the wall and picked through them.
“The black gown there…”
Morai took the opening provided
“No, certainly not worthy of your spire my lady. I am planning on an azure wrap to show my place among the house sta” - “No.” she interrupted, “If you are the be shown as the one who works silk worthy of me then you must stand above the house...yet still be in your place”
 
She came closer and straightened the elf with a motion of her hand, turning her face to the side. One long finger drug across her check and to her ear, the nail as sharp as coral coming to rest and then pressing into her earlobe. “You will keep yourself marked as mine Morai” The nail pressed sharply, piercing the flesh and drawing blood.
The large hand then grabbed roughly at her face, squeezing her chin and pressing the nail again, stabbing again into the side of her nostril this time and piercing through to the septum cartilage. Morai flinched the second time but held her dignity as best she could.
 
It was only a moment and the blue hand pushed her head away, releasing it as if being rid of something unpleasant. The long fingers twirled and Morai felt the cold bite of metal in her ear and nose suddenly. She felt her face and her hand brushed a thin chain connecting the two loops that had been suddenly conjured in the fresh wounds. After a brief moment the elf bowed low again. “That your power may be known in every sea.”
The reply was dismissive.
“I expect my next silks finished by the end of the next moon.”
Morai nodded. After a minute of silence she glanced around to be sure the space was her own again. She sighed, smoothing her apron and went to get some balm for the stinging in her nose.
 
As she applied the balm gently she stared at her reflection in the metal surface.
“May Fate, draw their path straight and bring us fortune.”