Home for the Holidays, A Saturalia Short Story Options

[Grits]

Here is a short story about a character from Jerric’s Story. It takes place over Saturalia of 3E432, which I’m pretty sure is the one before things go to Oblivion. I’m posting it in three parts for the time-challenged; I hope that helps for those who can’t get through the whole thing in one sitting.

I should warn you that there are no fights and only one naughty part, in case your tastes run otherwise. Still, I hope you read it.

I welcome your comments and criticisms, and I genuinely appreciate the time that you spend making them!

Home for the Holidays

Part1

Abiene took the porter’s hands and ducked out of the carriage. She stood on the running board, and he lifted her down as if she weighed no more than a wood elf. She held on to his arms until she got her balance, then she looked up and smiled her thanks. He turned to assist the next passenger.

She moved stiffly to the back of the carriage where men were rapidly unloading the passengers’ luggage. The express carriage traveled day and night, only stopping briefly when they changed drivers and horses. It got her home in time for Saturalia, but it was an expensive and physically punishing way to travel. “Milady?” asked another porter.

“Just the one. I’ll carry it; I don’t have to go far.” She pointed at her leather pack, and he handed it down to her. The air was not cold enough to freeze, but the damp seemed to cut right through her. Only six months in Anvil, and I’m already a Gold Coast girl, she thought.

She hooked her pack over her shoulder and walked between the crenellated towers and through the West Gate into Leyawiin.“Greetings, fellow Breton,” one of the guards said to her. She smiled back at him in surprise. Almost all of the Leyawiin City Watch were Imperials.

She turned right at the Great Chapel of Zenithar and continued between the high half-timbered houses. She looked up through the looming trees with their beards of epiphytic moss. She never felt like there was a sky in Leyawiin. She passed Rosentia Gallenus’ house and swung around behind the Blackwood Company Hall. She noted that it wore a new coat of paint on its stuccoed surfaces. She followed the city wall until she reached the statue of Torval the Pilot, then she turned and passed through Pilot Park. Her steps quickened as she reached her own street. She waved and called out greetings to her neighbors, but she didn’t slow to speak with any of them.

Abiene took the path through the side garden of her family’s home and entered through the back door. She dropped her pack outside the scullery and walked into the main kitchen. She stood and smiled at Ilonea, the family’s housekeeper.

“Abiene!” Ilonea cried, and she bustled over with her arms outstretched and her hands covered with flour.

“You don’t want to hug me!” Abiene exclaimed. “I haven’t had a real bath since Anvil.”

“Nonsense,” said Ilonea, and she folded her into a soft embrace. Abiene breathed in the smell of lavender, Ilonea’s scent that had comforted her all of her life.

Ilonea held her out at her arms’ length. “Now you’re right about needing a bath. I have it all set up in the scullery so we can chat. Revilius has been adding hot water all day to keep it ready for you. Go on in there, and I’ll come through and wash your hair for you. You’ll get no peace once Sidette hears you’re home, she has a lot to say about the gown your mother had made for you.”

Abiene was out of her clothes and into the steaming tub in a flash. She relaxed against the curved back rest and sighed with pleasure. Her eyes wandered over the wide sinks and the long shelves of stacked tableware and gleaming cookware. Revilius had kept the fire going all day to heat the water, and the scullery was as warm as toast. She watched steam rising from her rinse water in the warming kettle by the fire. She heard the back door open.

“Occupied!” she called out, and she saw Revilius walk past the scullery door with his face averted.

“Welcome home, Abiene,” he said, and she heard him deposit his firewood in the main kitchen's wood box. She listened to his low voice as he spoke with his wife, and she heard Ilonea’s pleasant tones in reply. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the peace while it lasted.

Revilius departed with a cheery wave as he walked back out with his eyes on the opposite wall. Abiene ducked under to soak her hair as Ilonea entered the scullery. Ilonea dipped her fingers into the shampoo jar and sat on the high stool behind the tub. She rubbed the paste into Abiene’s tangled hair, scrubbing her scalp with her strong fingers. “I’m going to have to comb it out later, no complaining,” Ilonea said. Abiene’s reply was a contented hmm.

She ducked under to rinse, and when she came up she saw her sister standing smiling in the doorway. “You’re home! I have so much to tell you. Wait until you see our gowns. Did you bring me anything? You’ll never guess who’s been asking about you. I have a new necklace! Ilonea, may we have a snack soon? Hurry up, Abiene, you have to let your hair dry and you haven’t even tried on your gown! What’s that smell? Is that the shampoo? Why doesn’t my shampoo smell like that? Hurry up Abiene!” and she gave her foot a little stomp.

Abiene wiped the water out of her eyes. “I’ll be right up, Sidette. By Azura! You’d think it was six years instead of six months since I’ve seen you.”

“I’ve missed you Abiene!” Sidette blew her a kiss and twirled away.

Ilonea rose and wiped her hands on a linen towel. She shared a look with Abiene. “Nineteen,” Abiene commented.

“And still blooming,” Ilonea replied. “Have a good scrub and call me to help you rinse off. I don’t need you to soak the floor for me.” She headed back to the main kitchen.

Abiene finished her bath and regretfully stood to be rinsed. Ilonea wrapped her in towels and a robe she had warming by the fire and led her to the main kitchen to condition her hair and comb it out. She chatted about domestic matters and the small doings of Abiene’s acquaintances. Abiene shared some funny stories from her journey. Ilonea returned to her work in the kitchen, and Abiene sat on the raised hearth with a cup of Ilonea’s herbal tea letting her hair curl up as the heat dried it.

Abiene’s mother swept into the kitchen. She halted and looked her over. “Good, you’re here. Your gown is in my dressing room, Sidette is already up there.” Her mother wasn’t one for greetings.

She looks the same, Abiene thought. Her glossy brown hair was still untouched by gray, and her skin was as smooth as Abiene’s. Her sharp gaze made Abiene feel that she had already made some error in judgment. “I just want to speak to Papa first. I haven’t seen him yet.”

Her mother sniffed. “He won’t come out until there’s a meal, you’ll have to see him in his study,” she said. “Don’t stay in there long or the smell will cling to you. He’s been conjuring dead things again, even though he knows there are to be no zombies in the house.”

Abiene wanted to laugh, but she had never heard her mother make a joke. “All right, Mother,” she said. She dropped her towels back in the scullery and put on the slippers Ilonea had placed there for her. She smiled past her mother’s back at Ilonea as she made her way down the hall.

She glanced around the hall and the receiving room as she walked through. Everything looked the same. She stopped and knocked on the study door. She waited and knocked again. Finally she took off her slipper and pounded the door with it.

“Enter, enter!” came her Papa’s voice. He looked up as she opened the door, and a smile lit up his round face. “My dear Abiene!” he cried, and he stood up from his desk just in time to catch her as she hugged him. “Let me look at you,” he said, and she took the opportunity to do the same. He looked well, round-cheeked and slightly portly. His curly hair was as much white as gray now, and it stood up in unruly tufts. His blue eyes crinkled at the corners with his delight in seeing her. “How are your studies going in Anvil?” he asked.

“Well I’m mostly teaching for now, but soon I’ll be able to go to Chorrol for more study.”

Her Papa sat back down. “Sticking with the healing then? Good. You have a passion for restoration magic, and a real gift for healing. You could have been anything, I’m glad you followed your heart.”

Abiene was amazed. She had struggled for years with her choices at the Arcane University and her Papa had never advised her. She assumed he wasn’t interested. She realized now that she had never asked.

“What are you working on, Papa? It smells like a scamp in here.”

“Scrolls, my dear, always scrolls! I have been working on some interesting summons spells. Your mother is most displeased with me. Tell me, why Chorrol? Will you study at the Guild there?”

“No, at the Chapel. There’s a healer there, Gureryne Selvilo. He’s working on a new way of healing, using surgery and restoration magic together. It’s very exciting. I have to prove myself before I can earn a position.”

“You will earn it and they will be lucky to have you.” He started to say more, but then he looked around her at the open doorway.

“Papa, we need her,” Sidette said. Her tone was impatient.

“You’d better run along, dear. It’s a big night for you ladies.” He was immersed in his work even before Abiene turned back toward the door.

___

Abiene stood in the new gown and stared at her reflection in shock. The design was so simple, but she felt as elegant as a queen. The brown velvet material was thin enough to drape over her thighs as she moved, and the snug bodice hugged her modest bosom for the best possible effect. The neckline curved low in the front and back. The skirt fell smoothly from the seam under her breasts, skimming her waist and hips then flaring enough to swish when she walked. The long sleeves followed the slim lines of her arms without the poufs and gathers that were in fashion. The only embellishment was a silk ribbon glittering with beads the same color as the velvet. The trim covered the seam under her breasts and sparkled at her wrists when she moved her hands. The color set off her dark brown hair and made her eyes look almost black. Abiene was speechless.

“Your gown is so plain,” complained Sidette. Her own was a strawberry red silk creation trimmed with enough gold braid to sink her to the bottom of the Niben.

“Abiene likes it,” their mother said. “You know she only acts agreeable when she feels agreeable. Not everyone can sparkle and shine like you, Sidette. Abiene glows, but only when she wants to.” She examined Abiene with a critical eye. “Only earrings I think, I have just the pair. You’re a beauty in candlelight, Abiene, when you’re not frowning. Stop putting your hands up, the neckline is cut that way for a reason.” She strode out of the room to fetch the jewelry.

“You do look lovely,” Sidette said. She moved to stand next to Abiene in the mirror. Her own neckline was quite a bit higher. “You’re lucky, that top wouldn’t work for really curvy girls.” She looked at herself and gave a little bounce. The red gown brought out her rosy complexion, Abiene observed. Sidette bounced again, admiring the effect.

“All eyes will be on you tonight,” Abiene said. Sidette’s remarks had long ago ceased to sting her. She just couldn’t give a compliment without concealing a barb in it. “Did I hear that Countess Caro’s cousin is in town?”

Sidette launched into a detailed description of every eligible and desirable man in the county, followed by a list of those who were one or the other, followed by those who were neither. Abiene nodded absently whenever Sidette paused for a breath. Jewelry and shoes were selected and set aside, and the women slipped out of their gowns and seated themselves in their shifts for the hair styling process. Sidette’s maid started by brushing out her silky brown hair. She always wore intricately woven braids.

Ilonea entered the room with tea and biscuits for them. An Imperial woman carrying a quilted bag and a basket followed. “I’m Lorna, milady. I’ll fix up your hair for you.” Lorna was middle-aged, plump, and pretty. She was neatly dressed and smelled of soap. She unrolled a set of flatirons and took a small brazier from her basket.

“You can put those away, Lorna,” said Abiene. “Curly hair doesn’t want to be straight. I’m sure we can think of something else.” Ilonea caught Abiene’s eye in the mirror and winked at her as she left.

Lorna looked uncertain and a little afraid. Abiene knew that she was under instructions from her mother. She made her tone gentle but firm. “Do you have some combs, or maybe a net? Don’t worry about what you’ve been told. After all, it’s my hair.” She smiled at Lorna and took a sip of her tea.

Sidette and her maid exchanged a look. Lorna rolled up the irons and opened the bag. “No brush,” said Abiene. “Here, let’s use this pick. I’ll show you.”

This post has been edited by Grits: Dec 25 2010, 08:24 PM

[Grits]

Part 2

The Metonnes were among the last to leave the Countess’ party. As they stepped into the courtyard the chapel bells were striking the first hour of the new day.

“Saturalia!” shouted Papa. His cheeks were bright with wine. He laughed and kissed all of his girls. They exchanged warm greetings with the other guests who were trickling out into the chilly night. “To the rickshaw, my dear!” he said to his wife. “Take your time, girls. Your mother and I will see you at home.” Papa handed his wife into the rickshaw and climbed up beside her. The Argonian puller took off down the street.

“Look at the muscles on him,” said Abiene. She was feeling slightly tipsy. She was not fond of the Countess, but she had no argument with her wine.

“Eew!” said Sidette. Abiene rolled her eyes. They started down the empty street. The lamps provided adequate light, and the Leyawiin City Watch was out in full force to protect the Countess’ guests on their unsteady way home.

As they turned through Guild Plaza they saw a group of men coming from the direction of the Chapel. Obviously they had also been out celebrating. Abiene looked them over as they passed under the street lamp outside Southern Books. She halted in surprise. “Vidkun!” she exclaimed.

The men shoved Vidkun to the front of the group. There was considerable laughing and back slapping as the rest of them turned to enter the Fighters Guild Hall. Vidkun stood smiling down at her. His breath misted in the air. He wasn’t wearing a coat or cloak.

“Go on ahead, Sidette, I’ll catch up,” said Abiene. Sidette sent a scathing look over Vidkun and walked just out of hearing range. She looked up at the Mages Guild Hall beside her and waited, shivering dramatically.

“Were you going to come and see me, Abiene?”

“I just got here today, Vidkun. I barely made it for the party.”

“Right. We’ve just come from the Five Claws.” A shadow crossed his face. Vidkun would never be invited to a social event at the castle. She couldn’t have said anything more awkward. She blamed the wine.

“You look well, Vidkun. Fighters Guild?” It wasn’t too hard to guess.

He made a muscle with his arm. His other arm was in a sling. “I’m thinking of joining the Blackwood Company, though. They get more contracts.”

“I don’t know anything about that. What about the Mages Guild? Do you remember the healing spell I taught you? What happened to your arm?”

Vidkun laughed. “You haven’t changed. I can’t heal bone, Abiene. But do you see any scars? I remember what you showed me.” He looked at her in a way that made her forget the chill. “It’s good to see you.”

She did see a scar, a deep one that ran along his jaw. She decided not to mention it. “When did you break it? I can’t help myself, Vidkun. I’m a healer.”

“That’s right, I heard you graduated. Congratulations. When are you coming back to Leyawiin?”

“I live in Anvil now, at the Guild. I work there and teach restoration.”

Vidkun looked blank. “You live at the Guild Hall?”

“Metonne Manor is my parents’ house. I’m not like that. You of all people should know.”

Vidkun’s face wore a very different kind of smile now, and his eyes told her that he remembered exactly what she was like. “About that …”

“Tomorrow. But not if you’ve been drinking. Well, not if you’re drunk.”

Vidkun’s jaw dropped open and his blue eyes grew wide. Abiene smiled. No doubt he had expected some resistance. He always underestimated his effect on her.

A few of her neighbors passed through the plaza on their way home from the castle. They nodded to her and ignored Vidkun. “Close your mouth, you’ll give us away. Do you still live with your Fa? Good, listen for the chapel bells and look for me, I’ll walk by as soon as I can after four of the evening watch. By then we should be out visiting. Think of a place we can go. Somewhere indoors, Vidkun, it’s cold!” She moved in to kiss him but stopped herself and squeezed his hand instead. She walked briskly to Sidette, and they continued on their way.

Sidette gave her a prim look as they left the plaza and entered the park. “Is that the Nord that went to school with you?”

“Until his Fa was injured. Then he went to work.” Sidette knew all about Abiene and Vidkun. She was just warming herself up to the subject.

“Are you going to meet him while you’re home? I can’t believe it when tonight you had Vlaramil eating out of your hand.”

“Which one was he?”

“Vlaramil Orius. Brown hair, brown eyes, handsome, green jacket with all of the gold on it? You talked to him for ages. He wears a big gold ring on his right hand.”

Trust Sidette to notice the jewelry. She could probably offer an accurate appraisal of its value, thought Abiene. “Oh right. Well he talked at me, really.”

“He’s one of the Countess’ favorites. He’s always at the castle. You would do well to get him, couldn’t you see he likes you?” Sidette stumbled in her stacked heels, and Abiene took her arm. Abiene wore flat slippers, and now they were the same height.

“Help yourself to Vlaramil. Who was that Breton you were talking with?”

“Don’t think you can change the subject on me, Abiene. You were going to tell me if you had plans with Vidkun. And what about Talenris? Of course he wasn’t at the party. Are you going to see him?”

“I haven’t seen Talenris since before I went to the University. You know that.”

“Well I just thought … since he was your first …”

Abiene stopped and gave Sidette’s arm a little shake. “What’s gotten into you, Sidette? I’m twenty three years old. I live on my own, and I make my own decisions. What are you really asking me?”

Sidette bit her pretty lip. “What’s it like, Abiene? With a man. I mean, I’m sure I’ll be married soon and I’ll find out. But then it will always just be him, and I’ll never know, you know, about the rest.”

“You’ve had too much wine, Sidette. You’re not like me. You’ll have your husband, and you don’t need to worry about the rest.” Abiene tugged her sister’s arm and they started walking again.

“How do you know I’m not like you?” Now Sidette sounded peevish.

“If you were, you’d already know it. So would everyone. Mother would have murdered you by now. You don’t have a you to keep your secrets.” Abiene gave her arm a friendly squeeze. “Anyway, didn’t Ilonea have the talk with you?”

“She told me what happens, but I have no idea why you would want to do that. Just tell me what it’s like. I’m nineteen, you know. No one ever tells me anything.”

Abiene knew that a little information could prevent a lot of whining. “Every time you’re with someone, you give them a little part of yourself. They give you a part of themselves in return. If it’s not like that, it’s not good for you. Talenris never gave anything back, he just whittled away at me. It was like an addiction with him, I wanted more and more, and every time I ended up with less.”

Sidette hiccupped and then burped. She giggled. They had reached Metonne Manor.

Abiene sighed. “Let’s go in through the kitchen and have Ilonea make us some kahve. We still have the gifts to get through tonight.”

They walked around the side of the house and into the warm, dimly lit kitchen. Ilonea was there in her bright apron fixing the trays for midnight breakfast. It was the family tradition to exchange gifts after the party at the castle, and those who stay up late enough always want another meal. Their mother believed that Saturalia morning was for servants and children. Ilonea looked them over as they entered. “Kahve’s in the pot, Abiene.”

She poured kahve and added sweetener for Sidette, then she stood there while she drank it. “Now show them that you’re home and then go use the necessary, otherwise you’ll need to go as soon as we all sit down. I’ll be there in just a moment. Say I’m helping with the trays.” Sidette left the kitchen and Abiene turned to Ilonea.

“I have your gift for you. I want to give it to you tonight.” She reached behind the honeycomb jar and pulled out a small parcel. She handed it to Ilonea.

Ilonea turned the package over in her thick hands. Her face lit up with excitement. Abiene didn’t know anyone who loved a present more than Ilonea. “This needlepoint, Abiene. Did you do this?”

Abiene felt like a little girl again, wanting so much to please. “I’m finally learning, after all those years you tried to get me to pick up a needle. Look how good I am!” She pointed at the tiny flowers.

Ilonea was delighted. “My old fingers can’t do these anymore. Oh, look at the morning glories, my favorite! When did you learn this?”

“At the University, if you can believe it. Sometimes in healing we need to stabilize … well anyway, I use it in my healing.” She didn’t want to get Ilonea started on the subject of how improper it was for a Metonne girl to know about healers’ matters, much less practice them. “That’s just the wrapping though, open it!”

Ilonea unfolded the embroidered cloth and looked at it some more while Abiene fidgeted. Finally she set it aside and looked at her gift. “All right now, what is this?” She looked confused. Abiene had given her a braided leather hair band nearly identical to the one she wore every day.

“Try it on, Ilonea.” Abiene took the old band out of Ilonea’s short gray hair and smoothed it back with her fingers. Ilonea slipped the new band in its place. She looked at Abiene for an explanation.

Abiene slid the heavy pottery dough rising bowl over to Ilonea. It already held tomorrow’s round breakfast loaf under a damp cloth. “Pick it up,” said Abiene. She pressed her hands together.

Ilonea braced herself and heaved the bowl up. She nearly tossed it into the air. She put it carefully back down and looked at Abiene with tears in her eyes. “You enchanted it,” she said. She shook her head. “I’m the housekeeper. It’s too much, Abiene.”

Abiene scooted around the high table and hugged Ilonea with all of her strength. “You were the mother that I needed,” she said in a low voice. “I don’t know who I would have become if I didn’t have you.”

Ilonea squeezed her back. “Hush child,” she said.

Abiene’s tears threatened to fall. It wouldn’t do to go in to her family with eyes puffy from crying. “Oof, Ilonea, you’re breaking me! Better not wear the new one with Revilius, or he’ll have some questions for you.”

Ilonea stepped back with a scandalized look on her face. Then she cackled. “Help me with these trays, imp! I’m old and feeble, remember. Take that needlework back and give it to me tomorrow. No one needs to know about anything else.”

She picked up a tray and headed through to the hearth room. Abiene picked up the other tray and followed her. They served kahve and cakes, and then Abiene sat and Ilonea went back to the kitchen.

Abiene watched her family open their gifts from her. She had brought her mother’s favorite perfume, difficult to get in Leyawiin but easy enough in the Imperial City. For Sidette she had a pair of hair sticks with little green gems that hung down and caught the light when she moved. Her eyes were only on her Papa, though. He opened his gift and looked at it, then looked across at her in wonder. “A scroll. You made this.” It wasn’t a question.

“Right before I graduated. It’s only a charm spell, but it’s a strong one. I want you to have it. I’m sure it’s the last scroll I will ever make.”

“Abiene, it’s beautiful. A scroll so lovely that no one could ever bear to use it, you did it.” He smiled and held out his arm. She went to him and snuggled against his side kneeling next to his chair.

Her mother managed to look at her with both pride and disapproval. Sidette was sleepy and happy, and her Papa was paying attention. This is as good as it gets here, she thought.

This post has been edited by Grits: Dec 16 2010, 03:25 AM