A Clockwork Snare [chapter 2/?]
Jul. 10th, 2007 02:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
runicloreA Clockwork Snare, Chapter Two
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: a very AU VP Lenneth
Words: 6414
Other chapters: [1 - 2]
Notes: Elise and Raeger remind me of Amy and myself in high school, in the last section. Ahahah. >_>
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Lunch was served in the small dining room on the second floor. A lamp was lit at the center, essence of blood orange swirling at the bottom of the oil bowl, the same shade as her dress: red shot with gold. Plain china was set, but the food had not yet arrived when Raeger entered. Mother sat at the far reach of the table's curve, with her back to the window and the lamp light glinting along the brass frame of her glasses. She marked her book and pulled the glasses over her nose to rest on their chain.
"Will Elise be here?" Raeger asked hesitantly, taking her seat across the table. Her sister was a little glutton; she never missed a meal, especially before guests, which usually meant dinner would be served late and the children excused early.
"She isn't ready," was the short reply. "She will join you for tea later."
She felt as if she'd just bitten into a lemon. Meals were the perfect time to have Elise for company - she talked, and talked, and kept the spotlight for herself. As a result she ate so slowly that finishing before her was an easy feat, and in the Etherell household, lingering at the table when one could be doing something productive meant one needed to be assigned more to do.
Entertaining guests, especially her own, was not the right time to allow her sister to be present. Raeger didn't doubt Mother had already lectured Elise on how to conduct herself on this occasion, but when she wasn't there to enforce the law, it was inevitably broken.
"A-are you sure--" she began.
"There are certain rules of propriety that must be observed," her mother said, stirring sugar into her tea with a small spoon. "Bertha will remain with you while we make arrangements, but Elise will be extra insurance for his behavior. I would prefer Marie, but her father is uncooperative as always."
Raeger remembered to pour her own tea, but left it bitter. "I don't think he'll do anything, Mother. Not in our own home..."
"You spend too much time with your books, Raeger."
She sighed sharply and took a long gulp from her cup, pursing her lips. She put it down carefully, feeling her mother's watchful gaze, afraid to appear petulant. That wasn't the problem at all. Raeger knew the rules. She had never in her life spent a moment alone with man aside from her father; though she didn't know why, the thought made her fidget uncomfortably. Father loved her, but Lawfer, whom she had never met - how could she know?
"By all accounts he is a fine young man. Charitable, kind." She snuck a glance up, and saw her mother loft an eyebrow. "Yet, if we allow you to sit alone with him, we will give the impression that we don't value your safety. We tried to make this easier on you, but Elise is the only option left to us. Try to be tolerant."
You wouldn't say that if Elise interrupted you all the time, she wanted to say. The brat behaved for Mother, of course, because to do otherwise meant trouble. What slipped out, however, was simply, "I have no choice, do I?"
An edge entered her mother's voice. "Don't complain. You've no idea how lucky you are, to marry into a local family. Do you think Marie will be going to Villnore because the prospects are better there? Is Melissa in Gerabellum because her family wanted to send her to that disease- ridden port city? We are not willing to sell our children for profit. We have standards, and we are going to keep them." Raeger opened her mouth, but Mother wasn't finished. "That means you, my child, will do as you're told and try to accept your lot with some grace, if you can muster any."
Her face reddened. She said nothing, letting it go with some effort. The matter of her lack of grace, on most fronts, was something harped on enough without her prompting.
Their food was brought in by two of the cook's assistants; a wide, shallow bowl of butternut bisque was placed in front of her, garnished with a dollop of cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. A loaf of crusty white bread was sliced and left between them, and rosemary chicken pie beside it, the pan small, deep, but mouth-wateringly fragrant.
Raeger finished her soup slowly, and had a hard time with her pie, despite how good it smelled. She told herself there needed to be room for the cake and sandwiches at tea, that there was no point in glutting herself like her sister, when it would only give her a stomach ache - probably at the most embarassing time possible. Getting to know Lawfer would be difficult with her insides churning. As it was, the fork shook in her hand, and the necessity of getting up, out of her chair, and leaving the comfort of the dining room to meet their visitors left her throat dry.
Her hair was done simply, and she wore a wool apron to protect her dress from potential accidents. Unlike her regular dresses, this one draped from her hips to the floor and would hide her missteps. The bodice was tight enough to hold her upright on its own.
Maybe that was the purpose of the accursed things; not to slim, but to hold one up during unfavorable circumstances. She'd take what help she could get.
Mother didn't hurry her, for which she was grateful. Even when Raeger picked at her food and stared into the lamp for what seemed like ages, she ate in silence, and went back to reading when she was done. The table was cleared. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, finally, breaking through the bleakness of the morning with a tentative promise of warmth for the latter half of the day. She listened to the birds cheep and talk to each other outside, and almost missed Bertha's entrance with Elise, to announce the arrival of their guests.
Her sister was a portrait of spoiled elegance, which Raeger didn't think was completely intentional. Elise's last growth spurt and left her with very little formal wear; their better dresses were fitted, and not very forgiving when adjustment was needed. She wore her best dress, of light green, finely-woven wool. The skirt, now too short to be decent for a meeting like this, was gathered up at the sides with ribbons to show off a creamy pale petticoat long enough to brush the floor. Tight ringlets framed her face.
She looked pale, and Raeger suspected Mother had made her skip lunch to be present for the modifications to her dress. There was no smile, no impertinent smirk to greet them. Elise followed them into the hallway silently, hovering to the left while Bertha pushed up to untie Raeger's wool apron and straightened her skirt with a tug. She muttered something that Raeger didn't catch and passed it off to Maiya.
The maid left before Raeger could catch her gaze, and she sighed. Why Bertha, and not Maiya? They would both go with her, or so she understood from the arrangements that had already been made. Maybe she was wrong. Or maybe Mother thought a slave made poor company when they were trying to make a good impression. Maiya's manners were immaculate, though, no matter how foreign. She never showed one bit of emotion, except for a hesitation to overstep her bounds, and she wouldn't open her mouth to criticize, even when ordered - that part of her personality was directly opposite to her nurse.
The front staircase was polished to a gleaming gold, all of the scuffs and marks of daily use erased to show the beauty of its solid pinewood heart. Every lamp was lit to supplement the meager light of the afternoon, dimmer on the north side of the house where the front door opened. Mother went down first in her brown silk, straight-backed and confident, probably with a smile ready for their guests. Raeger followed directly behind her, flanked by sister and nurse, wishing for the surety of her mother's step. Even holding the hem out of the way, she dreaded tripping over her own feet and ruining the show.
Whatever Mother said was lost on her. She tried not to bite her lip, though she wanted to badly, and curtsied when she was introduced, refusing to lift her chin long enough to get a good look at Lawfer or his father. They weren't dressed in armor, as she'd half-thought they would be; Lord Millais wore his surcoat over functional browns and gray, and across his chest their crest embroidered in red and gold. The chain of rank shown gold at his shoulder. He seemed tall and every inch a knight, at least within her peripheral vision. Lawfer was taller than his father, and crowned with pale golden hair. That was all she saw before hurriedly averting her gaze.
Their parents accompanied them as far as the drawing room, where tea was set out and waiting for them. Then they were left alone with Bertha and Elise, and Raeger forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat so her voice wouldn't come out a croak. The feeling sank into her stomach, and she wished Elise had eaten in her place. She waved her nurse back and poured the tea herself. Somehow, her hands were steady.
Not more than a moment after Lawfer murmured his thanks, Elise piped up. "Is Villnore really going to attack us?"
He swallowed and coughed, pinkening, and Raeger kicked her sister under the table.
"What?" she demanded. "Someone has to do the talking. Do you have a better idea?"
"It's okay," Lawfer managed, coughing again into a napkin. He seemed to be regaining his color. "I thought it might come up. You must be hearing news all the time, being so close to the border." He sipped at his tea more carefully, and then smiled faintly. "I... don't have very much to talk about, anyway."
Bertha admitted a kitchen maid, and Elise watched ravenously as their food was served. They weren't allowed much with a large dinner awaiting them, but it looked more palatable than the heavy lunch she tried to eat before. One platter offered small squares of white bread with cheese and cucumber slices; another was decorated with small meringues, and her sister reached for that one first. On the third, squares of fudge sprinkled with sugar and nuts were arranged like a checkerboard.
Raeger studied her empty plate, feeling a small pang. "I'm sure it'll be fine." She shot a glance at Elise. "We are curious - a friend of mine... she wrote there were problems on the trade routes with-- with Gerabellum." What Marie actually said had promptly slipped her mind when she thought of it, but all trade routes led to Gerabellum eventually. It sounded safe.
"Hmm."
"So is it true?" Elise prompted.
Lawfer started to shake his head, but seemed to change his mind. "The routes closed early up north. Because of snow, the capitol said, but the merchants from the south aren't happy. I don't think they believe it. There's also that business with the slaves..."
"What business?" her sister managed to ask first.
"What does it have to do with us, would be a better question," Raeger followed, trying to soften the demanding tone. "They can't blame Artolia for an early winter. We haven't heard anything from the border, and we usually do when there's trouble."
"No, they couldn't blame us for that." Their guest sipped at his tea slowly, blowing across the top to cool it. Mother would have been up in arms over that, but Raeger felt the knots in her shoulders ease a little. Her nurse studied the window with exaggerated interest when she glanced over. "I noticed the Japanese girl at the top of the stair. Is she hired?"
Raeger glanced at her sister, who took the opportunity to push the rest of her cake into her mouth. "No..." Suddenly she was glad Mother had kept Maiya in the background. "No, my father purchased her as a... a gift for my wedding."
Lawfer only nodded. "Early last year the King purchased a body of slaves for excavation projects in the southeast, near the Scorched Lands. They were mostly Northerners from Villnore and the mountains. I am told there was an agreement of some kind with the governor just north of here, but of course that fell through as soon as the roads closed."
She took refuge in her tea. "I'm sorry, I thought he used prisoners for such things."
Elise made a noise around her mouthful, but the knight only glanced at her. "That is correct, usually. Prisoners are still sent to work the mines, and before Villnore opened trade with us, small numbers of them were diverted to construction and excacation." Lawfer shrugged. "Then His Majesty discovered slaves."
"So why's Villnore so pushy, then? I still don't get why they're after us," Elise said. "Or is Father just trying to scare us?"
"I don't know about that," Lawfer replied with a faint smile. "I'm sure he only repeats what he hears."
"I"m told trade is much better to the west," Raeger said softly.
He nodded, tilting his head. "So am I. You're well-informed."
She shook her head, refusing to look at Elise even when her dainty foot nudged her ankle painfully. "That arrangement you mentioned might be the cause. Is that what you're getting at?"
"It's one way to look at it," he said. "I don't know."
"Well that would be stupid," Elise exploded, clapping her teacup down. Raeger winced, imagining a crack snaking to the lip. "If they don't have anything to sell, how are we supposed to buy it? It's such an easy concept. Do they teach logic in Villnore?"
"Elise," she whispered through clenched teeth, trying to smile. A dismissive glance is what she got in response.
Lawfer managed to keep a straight face somehow, shoulders hunching, mouth almost - but not quite - turning up. "I couldn't say. We haven't stayed long enough."
"Oh, come on--"
With his attention on her sister for the moment, Raeger relaxed into her chair and took as deep a breath as she could. The tea had calmed her stomach. Now she felt painfully stiff, as if she'd been sitting there for hours, and the sun had barely moved. She knew Bertha was watching them like a hawk somehow from the corner of her eye.
They didn't look much alike, Lawfer and his father; she saw right away that the planes of his face were narrower, and the surcoat couldn't hide a slimmer frame - slim for a knight, at any rate. There were callouses on his hands, and a long, white scar that ran into his right sleeve. She wondered if they were hard or rough, or if it even made a difference. Was he marked by deeper scars, elsewhere? His face was miraculously untouched. He could have been any courtier in the capitol, with that fine hair curling at the tips.
At least he would be nice to look at. He seemed a decent person, and he was remarkably patient with Elise. It could be an act; if it wasn't, he was blessed with tolerance, and even grace, that she envied.
"Is it true there's a Gorgon in Camille?"
"Ah--"
"Have you seen her ugly snake head? Has anybody turned into stone?"
Raeger took a piece of fudge to nibble on and let her sister do what she did best. Having her along wasn't so bad; watching expressions flit across Lawfer's face was easier when she didn't have to come up with clever things to say. Mother didn't have to know that. She would get an earful from Elise later anyway.
She glanced at the window and sighed. Time might as well have frozen.
*
**
*
The lamps burned until well past eleven, allowing Raeger's parents to draw out what was already a long affair. They occupied Lawfer's father with more polite conversation than she could stomach in a year; she was supposed to entertain her new fiancee in a similar manner, probably, but what she remembered saying only made her wince.
She couldn't recall the last time she'd tried to befriend someone new. Did it involve talking about the weather and commenting on the food? Or saying too much about how one liked fairy stories when one was entirely too old for such childish things? Her only comfort was Lawfer's own hesitant attempts. Elise, who might have happily filled the gaps in conversation, was sent to bed early.
Mother took on the burden of escorting her upstairs. Raeger's shoulders hunched in anticipation, part of her sure someone noticed how quiet she'd been, or overheard something they thought inappropriate. Her nurse had clung unwelcomely close most of the night, always just far enough to be polite, yet close enough to listen if she wanted to.
"Well?" her mother said when they were almost to her room. "Do you like him?"
She hadn't thought it mattered. "He's... nice enough." It was the truth; he didn't make a show of being nice, which always set her teeth on edge. He looked as uncomfortable as she was. "Very polite," she added, feeling she should say more. "I think he must deserve his good reputation."
She stepped on the hem of her gown near the top of the stairs and winced at the sound of snapping thread. Her feet felt heavy, like they'd swelled to fit her shoes and tried to pull apart the seams - it was like walking in clogs. She tugged at the bodice, glancing quickly at her mother, but nothing was loose.
"Good." They paused at Raeger's door, and her mother lifted an eyebrow. "I trust you will be more talkative during the trip. This will be easier if you get to know him before the wedding."
Her face heated. "I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about--"
"It doesn't matter," was the calm response. "He wants to know what he is getting into. Don't you?"
"Of course I do." She knotted her fingers together, refusing to look Lucy in the face. "I know my opinion doesn't matter, but he doesn't look ready for this either."
"Nobody is," Lucy said. "You have time, Raeger. I want you to take advantage of it. Your father wants you to be happy, and I would rather send you to a home you find welcome. Do you understand? We all endure this trial. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible, but you must cooperate."
"Yes..." She squared her shoulders, tried to smooth her face, though she couldn't make herself look up. "Yes mother, I'll try harder."
Lucy pet her shoulder briefly, murmuring good night, and took the light with her when she continued down the hallway to her chambers. Raeger watched until she turned into the next corridor before she shuffled into her sitting room. She could barely muster a smile for the maid's bow.
"Packed already?" she asked, looking at her bare desk. Her music was gone, and all of her writing tools, even Marie's invitation. That panged, but she didn't really want to look at it.
"We have been working all day," Maiya confirmed. "Are you ready?"
Raeger followed her to the other room, pulling her hair out of its net. A pin clinked onto the table when she passed, but she ignored it, digging the others out. Her hair was oiled into its coiffre, and felt cool when it slithered over her neck and into her hands. She twisted it over her shoulder quickly so it wouldn't stain the dress.
"Took you long enough."
She jumped and dropped the pins. "Elise?" She stooped to pick them up and handed them to the maid, watching her sister sit up and shake her curls out. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" Elise snapped. "Mom kept you out there forever. Is she mad?"
Raeger shook her head. "She always has something to say. You know that."
"I guess." Her sister blinked blearily, fighting back a yawn. "So what do you think of him?"
She shrugged, flinching again when she felt Maiya's hands at her collar. Elise smirked. "He's nice enough. You met him yourself - what do you think?"
"I think he's nice enough," she repeated, kicking her feet against the bedpost. "Maiya thinks he has pretty hair."
Raeger turned to look at her maid, but Maiya worked diligently at releasing her from the dress, cheeks tinted only slightly. "It is very-- very shocking," she finally said, sneaking a glance at Elise that she barely caught.
"Striking," Raeger murmured softly, shrugging out of her sleeves at the maid's prompting.
The brat had the nerve to giggle. "I knew you liked him!"
"I didn't say anything like that!"
"Yes you did!" Elise sang out. "I could tell by how long you stared at him. Come on, at least he's pretty. He could have been another Nigel." She paused. "God, I hate his voice. Think of being married to him."
Raeger pursed her lips. "That's not very nice."
"He's fat," Elise said flatly. "And it sounds like he wheezes through broken reeds."
She drew a slow, experimental breath when Maiya loosened her stays, pressing her hands to her ribs. It was almost dizzying. Her maid put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Well." Raeger sighed, frowning. "Still, he's--"
"Obnoxious." She laughed, and Elise slid off the bed. "Don't mess this up by hesitating too much," she said, her round face growing serious. "He's much better than the leftovers in the capitol. I like him."
Raeger couldn't summon up more than a flimsy protest. She was right - they were all right about how lucky she was to have a chance like this fall into her lap. Lawfer's ranking didn't matter - it might have meant something in the capitol, but the Etherell family was tied to its estate, and that estate needed money. The glory of the Millais household was worth its weight in gold. The king had heaped more praise and honors and money upon his father than anyone else she could remember, except perhaps that mercenary.
And perhaps there was something to be said for a husband that was absent most of the year. Raeger wasn't afraid of solitude. And if she grew sick of it - well, she would be in the capitol, and most anything could be had there for a price, when the season was right.
The idea left her feeling slightly sick. Never that. But she could journey home instead - with his retainers to protect her, even. It wasn't a bad deal.
"Go to sleep, Rae." Elise wandered toward the door with a spectacular yawn. "See you tomorrow."
What would a day without Elise and her griping be like?
"Good night," she said, a few seconds too late.
*
**
*
"I can't believe you just sat there," Elise said. "You couldn't think of anything to say? Nothing? What about those books?"
Raeger sighed. "Should I read to him instead of talking?"
"At least you'd be using your voice!"
She wrapped Tales From the Ancients and fit it into a woven bag, to be put into her personal trunk. The bare shelves in her rooms niggled at her dreams all night, waking her up to wonder if the maids followed her orders in packing the day before. Maiya reassured her over a breakfast she never managed to finish, promised she oversaw the entire ordeal herself, and Raeger wasn't sure why that was such a relief.
Bertha hadn't left any of her smocks in the wardrobe for her use during the trip, so she had to carry the small sheaf of bound paper the maid had found for her to use, and fit her room keys into the tiny hidden pocket in her skirt. It was a lovely sky blue and comfortably warm, but utterly useless otherwise.
"I use my voice more than enough," she replied, shooting a frown at the brat over another book. The bag was going to be heavy. "Why is this only my fault? He didn't say anything either."
"Of course not," Elise said archly. "Men don't talk. That's our job."
Raeger rolled her eyes and pushed the last volume into the bag, pulling it closed. There was just enough room. The folio with her favorite music was at the bottom, almost thick enough to be another book. She'd wanted to fit an ink box and some letter parchment in, but even if they stopped at an inn with lamps on the way to Artolia, there wouldn't be enough time to waste on writing.
"So," she said thoughtfully after a moment, hefting the bag. As expected, she couldn't lift it more than an inch off the floor. "If I put some pants on..."
"You wouldn't do that. How stupid could-- ... W-would you?" She shrugged, and Elise's horrified expression almost broke her composure. "Don't you dare! Who has to listen to mother all the way to--"
"You're such an idiot, Elise." She let herself laugh to take the sting from the words. "Go get somebody to carry this, and then we can go to the chapel."
Her sister got up, grumbling, and stormed to the door. She spoke to someone outside, though Raeger couldn't hear who, and the door drifted shut. She was tempted to look, but they would let her know if concerned her - it would be Mother come to make suggestions on how one made oneself presentable and attractive, or Bertha to give her a talking-to about the conversation at tea yesterday. She hadn't said a word about it in the morning, but Maiya had also been present; the older servants, at least, had the sensitivity to keep talk of slavery away from the purchased help.
The night went by so fast at some points, so slowly at others - agonizingly so at supper, when she had to listen to her parents pretend she was a good catch by extolling virtues she didn't have. It reminded her of the man they purchased her harpsicord from, and how he'd polished it to a high gleam and tuned the strings, while neglecting to tell them how old its keys were, how many cracks were waiting on the ridges of bone, or how expensive it would be to replace them. The best of its kind, he'd promised. Made by Heinlin himself.
Raeger left her books to sit at the keys, rubbing a scratch on the wooden bed. She doubted his claim about its maker, but it really was the best of its kind. It was friendlier than the laquered monster in their parlor at the capitol.
When the door opened again a few minutes later she was ready to face both Lucy and Bertha at once - it wouldn't be the first time - but Lawfer was inching through the door when she turned the stool to face his direction, led by her maid. Elise didn't follow.
Maiya immediately bowed. Their guest cleared his throat and did the same, looking uncomfortable. "My lady suggested we escort you to the shrine." It had the sound of a rehearsed line.
Oh did she. Raeger hoped surprise was all that registered in her expression. "I see." She couldn't leave it at that; if her response was too neutral, they would only walk away sure she was displeased. And it wasn't that at all. They were only doing as they were told. Lawfer must be used to following orders, and even her father wouldn't turn Lucy down when she had a 'suggestion.' "In that case..." She looked around and pointed to a chair. "Please sit down. Elise should be back in a few minutes."
She turned back to the keys. They'd lost their magic of a moment ago. Sitting there seemed instantly foolish - she wasn't playing. Her music was buried under her books, and Elise's collection, which still sat on the stool next to her, waiting to be packed, was so simple as to be insulting. She hadn't touched any of it since her second year.
To be fair, Elise had only played for three, and she practiced as much as any other girl, Raeger thought. She herself had been a special case. Her friends were far away, and the time between letters often stretched to weeks. It was reading or practice, for her. The shrine had long since ceased to be her responsibility.
"My lady said you're quite good," Lawfer said after a short pause, propping his elbows on his knees. "How long have you been playing?"
Raeger thought back, hooking her fingers on the key bed. "I don't know. Since my tenth birthday, maybe? Father bought this when I asked to learn."
"It's a bit unusual. Most girls I've met prefer to sing."
"I didn't much like voice," Raeger said.
"I would expect not." Heat crept into her cheeks, and he leapt from his seat as if burned. "T- that isn't what I meant! You just-- it seems an outgoing sport, singing, and..."
A laugh erupted before Raeger could swallow it. "Sit down," she said when she could school it out of her voice. She still had to bite her lip to fight a smile. "Sit," she repeated when he hesitated, nodding to the chair. "It's alright."
He scrubbed a hand through his hair, obeying reluctantly. "The princess plays." His hair flopped over his eyes and he left it, hiding behind it, tapping a rhythm on his knee. "She prefers to sing, and her friends have followed suit, which I hear has quite annoyed her."
Raeger had to work to keep her face smooth. "I hear she's annoyed quite often."
"Only when things don't go her way," he replied with a twist to the corner of his mouth. "Which doesn't happen often. I... was hoping to hear you play. If you're willing."
She turned her gaze to the keys. "Well--" Elise seemed to be taking forever. Had she run across the manor for help? Raeger wanted to sigh, but she held that in check and tried to recall something playable - anything. "My music is packed, so I'm afraid I can't do very much."
Lawfer offered a tentative smile. "Anything is fine. I haven't heard real music in months."
Now that he asked, of course, every scrap of music she'd ever played somehow slipped from her mind. She remembered her favorite bits from Ingild's pieces - the ones Elise hated, coincidentally, which was enough to make up Raeger's mind. She couldn't grasp a memory of the notes to save her life, but her fingers remembered which keys to rest on. Maybe hearing the sound drift down the hallway would hurry her sister's step.
She played something that made her think of the palace, though she'd never visited on her own before. Father called it coy and snobbish, but she thought of it as playful instead.
Music was always loud in her small study, but it seemed twice as strident with Lawfer listening, thrumming through her arms and behind her eyes. It made her feel lightheaded for a moment. A deaf man would have noticed a mistake, had she made one. Luck was with her for once; she finished the piece with a flourish, as her master had taught. It was silly, but Raeger felt as foolish.
"Ingild?" Lawfer asked thoughtfully. "My mother liked him. We have a collection locked in a trunk somewhere."
She couldn't help looking up at that. "Really?" Their own collection was haphazard, copied from friends, or friends of friends, and not all of it was even meant for her choice of instruments. The piece she'd just played was a variation on a string manuscript that she had to transpose for an appropriate sound.
A knock at the door - or rather, the impatient rap of a shoe - signaled her sister's tardy arrival, and Elise lingered in the doorway, hugging a narrow wooden case to her chest. "We should hurry up. The luncheon will start soon and Mother wants us back on time."
The prospect of another formal meal made Raeger's stomach twist. She followed with a sigh, not thinking to hide it that time, and offered to carry the box. Elise refused, and it was just as well; they went the long way, down the grand staircase in front, because taking a guest down the back stairs would have been improper. They made a lot of noise tramping down the stairs - it was impossible not to when Lawfer's best efforts at walking quietly still resulted in an ungodly thuming descent that almost made Raeger laugh. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He hadn't the flighty grace of some of the boys in the capitol, but he seemed more substantial because of it. Substantial enough to stomp right through the stairs in his armor.
Lawfer caught her glance and shrugged, his smile sheepish. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.
Outside the sun was blanketed by wispy clouds, the sky an ashy blue made drab by the yellowing tops of the maples. Light pierced the veil to descend to earth like golden fingers, hazy like rainbows, that yet looked solid enough to touch if one could reach far enough. She and Elise led the way, Lawfer and Maiya falling into step behind them on the tiled path. It led them around the house on the east side and along the outskirts of the kitchen garden, where the cook's boys were harvesting herbs just outside the door, and they turned onto a smaller, wooded path just beyond the house's precincts.
The chapel was quite far from the house, a ten minute walk when one was free to move as fast as one wished. It would have been visible from the house if not for the small wood. The scent of woodsmoke tickled her nose long before they arrived, and then the sound of a broom sweeping over the stone steps. The sun was free from its veil when they arrived, lingering on the shrine maiden's hair so it shined like silver.
Raeger had marveled at it since the woman arrived with her husband to care for the chapel. Even when the sun's light waned and faded again, it looked like nothing other than a braid of silver thread, or molten metal flowing over her shoulders.
"We'll stay out here," Lawfer told her softly, halting at the gate. Maiya nodded uncertainly when Raeger looked at her.
"You've brought offerings?" the maiden asked with a glance to Elise. Rather than waiting for the obvious answer, she turned to the door. "Come along."
The chapel hoarded the day's warmth, smelling so strongly of cedar the air was almost too thick to breathe. Light strained through the cloudy glass windows and danced over the altar on dust motes and the shimmering wave of heat emanating up from the brazier. The shrine maiden waited while Elise deposited her burden on a bench and reached inside.
"Mother said this is her offering for the winter months, if you'll stay. Rooms will be made up for you in the house."
The woman smiled for the first time, and her voice, usually direct, softened in turn. "We would be happy to accept her offer. My husband will defend the manor with your retainers, if necessary."
Elise beamed. "I'll tell her." She removed a velvet pouch and let the box fall closed with a click. "Here," she said, turning to Raeger, her hand already in the bag, and proffered a flaky white stone. "It's the last of the amber. Lucky you."
Raeger took it without comment and followed the maiden to the altar and its smouldering brazier. Dried apple blossoms were strewn over the velvet coverlet, wilting at the edges. She approached cautiously, feeling persperation on her brow, but her silver-haired guide seemed unaffected.
"I'm told you will marry at the beginning of the new year," the woman said, watching her kneel.
Raeger nodded. "This is my final offering here." It was easier to say than she thought it should be. "Is... amber an appropriate offering for this?"
Her smile was very faint this time. "We are told the Battle Maiden favors it. But even the poorest offering will be accepted if it is sincere." She offered the tongs, handle first, and Raeger took them. "Say your peace."
Her slender hand rested, for a fleeting moment, on Raeger's forehead, and she whispered a benediction in her cool alto, almost making up for the heat. It would have been a pleasant singing voice.
Raeger placed her offering atop the charcoal, and fragrant amber quickly overwhelmed the shadow of cedar, lifting her thoughts away on a sweet note. She didn't know what to pray for; a happy marriage, a prosperous estate? Imagining either circumstance was hard. Her heart was here at home, among the wild grass at the edge of their property, and the firey maples when they shed their leaves before winter. With the harpsichord in her study, and the trunk of her old smocks that she knew was secreted away in some dusty corner of the old attic. With her friends, scattered like leaves across the western territories.
She prayed for fortune - of any kind. For no war, accompanied by an apology for the Battle Maiden's sensibilities. She thrived on war, picking heroic souls from the battlefield to send to Odin. Let Villnore's ambitions pass them by, she prayed. The Battle Maiden was also the goddess of fate; if anybody could twist the strings, it would be her.
Raeger stayed until her offering burned away. Her sister clearly wasn't planning to make an offering, and she felt reluctant to leave. The shrine maiden stood patiently by her side, as still as the likeness of the goddess above the altar.
Her last prayer, carried on the fading wisps of fragrance, was for Maiya. Men said Fate was a cruel mistress, but Raeger knew She could be kind, too. She hoped they would see that mercy in the future, that her prayers were not hollow. One could never tell, with gods.
The afternoon was moist and heavy when they left, promising rain. Maiya huddled close to her, and Raeger offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Even if Fate didn't intervene, she would do her best. That was all anyone could ask.
*
**
*
I had the hardest time finishing this one off, and eventually gave up. I do apologize for any typos or errors. Most of this was written as bits and pieces when the mood struck me - usually at around four or five in the morning - and I had a bit of trouble getting it to do what I wanted.
Author: Amber Michelle
Fandom: a very AU VP Lenneth
Words: 6414
Other chapters: [1 - 2]
Notes: Elise and Raeger remind me of Amy and myself in high school, in the last section. Ahahah. >_>
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Lunch was served in the small dining room on the second floor. A lamp was lit at the center, essence of blood orange swirling at the bottom of the oil bowl, the same shade as her dress: red shot with gold. Plain china was set, but the food had not yet arrived when Raeger entered. Mother sat at the far reach of the table's curve, with her back to the window and the lamp light glinting along the brass frame of her glasses. She marked her book and pulled the glasses over her nose to rest on their chain.
"Will Elise be here?" Raeger asked hesitantly, taking her seat across the table. Her sister was a little glutton; she never missed a meal, especially before guests, which usually meant dinner would be served late and the children excused early.
"She isn't ready," was the short reply. "She will join you for tea later."
She felt as if she'd just bitten into a lemon. Meals were the perfect time to have Elise for company - she talked, and talked, and kept the spotlight for herself. As a result she ate so slowly that finishing before her was an easy feat, and in the Etherell household, lingering at the table when one could be doing something productive meant one needed to be assigned more to do.
Entertaining guests, especially her own, was not the right time to allow her sister to be present. Raeger didn't doubt Mother had already lectured Elise on how to conduct herself on this occasion, but when she wasn't there to enforce the law, it was inevitably broken.
"A-are you sure--" she began.
"There are certain rules of propriety that must be observed," her mother said, stirring sugar into her tea with a small spoon. "Bertha will remain with you while we make arrangements, but Elise will be extra insurance for his behavior. I would prefer Marie, but her father is uncooperative as always."
Raeger remembered to pour her own tea, but left it bitter. "I don't think he'll do anything, Mother. Not in our own home..."
"You spend too much time with your books, Raeger."
She sighed sharply and took a long gulp from her cup, pursing her lips. She put it down carefully, feeling her mother's watchful gaze, afraid to appear petulant. That wasn't the problem at all. Raeger knew the rules. She had never in her life spent a moment alone with man aside from her father; though she didn't know why, the thought made her fidget uncomfortably. Father loved her, but Lawfer, whom she had never met - how could she know?
"By all accounts he is a fine young man. Charitable, kind." She snuck a glance up, and saw her mother loft an eyebrow. "Yet, if we allow you to sit alone with him, we will give the impression that we don't value your safety. We tried to make this easier on you, but Elise is the only option left to us. Try to be tolerant."
You wouldn't say that if Elise interrupted you all the time, she wanted to say. The brat behaved for Mother, of course, because to do otherwise meant trouble. What slipped out, however, was simply, "I have no choice, do I?"
An edge entered her mother's voice. "Don't complain. You've no idea how lucky you are, to marry into a local family. Do you think Marie will be going to Villnore because the prospects are better there? Is Melissa in Gerabellum because her family wanted to send her to that disease- ridden port city? We are not willing to sell our children for profit. We have standards, and we are going to keep them." Raeger opened her mouth, but Mother wasn't finished. "That means you, my child, will do as you're told and try to accept your lot with some grace, if you can muster any."
Her face reddened. She said nothing, letting it go with some effort. The matter of her lack of grace, on most fronts, was something harped on enough without her prompting.
Their food was brought in by two of the cook's assistants; a wide, shallow bowl of butternut bisque was placed in front of her, garnished with a dollop of cream and sprinkled with cinnamon. A loaf of crusty white bread was sliced and left between them, and rosemary chicken pie beside it, the pan small, deep, but mouth-wateringly fragrant.
Raeger finished her soup slowly, and had a hard time with her pie, despite how good it smelled. She told herself there needed to be room for the cake and sandwiches at tea, that there was no point in glutting herself like her sister, when it would only give her a stomach ache - probably at the most embarassing time possible. Getting to know Lawfer would be difficult with her insides churning. As it was, the fork shook in her hand, and the necessity of getting up, out of her chair, and leaving the comfort of the dining room to meet their visitors left her throat dry.
Her hair was done simply, and she wore a wool apron to protect her dress from potential accidents. Unlike her regular dresses, this one draped from her hips to the floor and would hide her missteps. The bodice was tight enough to hold her upright on its own.
Maybe that was the purpose of the accursed things; not to slim, but to hold one up during unfavorable circumstances. She'd take what help she could get.
Mother didn't hurry her, for which she was grateful. Even when Raeger picked at her food and stared into the lamp for what seemed like ages, she ate in silence, and went back to reading when she was done. The table was cleared. Sunlight peeked through the curtains, finally, breaking through the bleakness of the morning with a tentative promise of warmth for the latter half of the day. She listened to the birds cheep and talk to each other outside, and almost missed Bertha's entrance with Elise, to announce the arrival of their guests.
Her sister was a portrait of spoiled elegance, which Raeger didn't think was completely intentional. Elise's last growth spurt and left her with very little formal wear; their better dresses were fitted, and not very forgiving when adjustment was needed. She wore her best dress, of light green, finely-woven wool. The skirt, now too short to be decent for a meeting like this, was gathered up at the sides with ribbons to show off a creamy pale petticoat long enough to brush the floor. Tight ringlets framed her face.
She looked pale, and Raeger suspected Mother had made her skip lunch to be present for the modifications to her dress. There was no smile, no impertinent smirk to greet them. Elise followed them into the hallway silently, hovering to the left while Bertha pushed up to untie Raeger's wool apron and straightened her skirt with a tug. She muttered something that Raeger didn't catch and passed it off to Maiya.
The maid left before Raeger could catch her gaze, and she sighed. Why Bertha, and not Maiya? They would both go with her, or so she understood from the arrangements that had already been made. Maybe she was wrong. Or maybe Mother thought a slave made poor company when they were trying to make a good impression. Maiya's manners were immaculate, though, no matter how foreign. She never showed one bit of emotion, except for a hesitation to overstep her bounds, and she wouldn't open her mouth to criticize, even when ordered - that part of her personality was directly opposite to her nurse.
The front staircase was polished to a gleaming gold, all of the scuffs and marks of daily use erased to show the beauty of its solid pinewood heart. Every lamp was lit to supplement the meager light of the afternoon, dimmer on the north side of the house where the front door opened. Mother went down first in her brown silk, straight-backed and confident, probably with a smile ready for their guests. Raeger followed directly behind her, flanked by sister and nurse, wishing for the surety of her mother's step. Even holding the hem out of the way, she dreaded tripping over her own feet and ruining the show.
Whatever Mother said was lost on her. She tried not to bite her lip, though she wanted to badly, and curtsied when she was introduced, refusing to lift her chin long enough to get a good look at Lawfer or his father. They weren't dressed in armor, as she'd half-thought they would be; Lord Millais wore his surcoat over functional browns and gray, and across his chest their crest embroidered in red and gold. The chain of rank shown gold at his shoulder. He seemed tall and every inch a knight, at least within her peripheral vision. Lawfer was taller than his father, and crowned with pale golden hair. That was all she saw before hurriedly averting her gaze.
Their parents accompanied them as far as the drawing room, where tea was set out and waiting for them. Then they were left alone with Bertha and Elise, and Raeger forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat so her voice wouldn't come out a croak. The feeling sank into her stomach, and she wished Elise had eaten in her place. She waved her nurse back and poured the tea herself. Somehow, her hands were steady.
Not more than a moment after Lawfer murmured his thanks, Elise piped up. "Is Villnore really going to attack us?"
He swallowed and coughed, pinkening, and Raeger kicked her sister under the table.
"What?" she demanded. "Someone has to do the talking. Do you have a better idea?"
"It's okay," Lawfer managed, coughing again into a napkin. He seemed to be regaining his color. "I thought it might come up. You must be hearing news all the time, being so close to the border." He sipped at his tea more carefully, and then smiled faintly. "I... don't have very much to talk about, anyway."
Bertha admitted a kitchen maid, and Elise watched ravenously as their food was served. They weren't allowed much with a large dinner awaiting them, but it looked more palatable than the heavy lunch she tried to eat before. One platter offered small squares of white bread with cheese and cucumber slices; another was decorated with small meringues, and her sister reached for that one first. On the third, squares of fudge sprinkled with sugar and nuts were arranged like a checkerboard.
Raeger studied her empty plate, feeling a small pang. "I'm sure it'll be fine." She shot a glance at Elise. "We are curious - a friend of mine... she wrote there were problems on the trade routes with-- with Gerabellum." What Marie actually said had promptly slipped her mind when she thought of it, but all trade routes led to Gerabellum eventually. It sounded safe.
"Hmm."
"So is it true?" Elise prompted.
Lawfer started to shake his head, but seemed to change his mind. "The routes closed early up north. Because of snow, the capitol said, but the merchants from the south aren't happy. I don't think they believe it. There's also that business with the slaves..."
"What business?" her sister managed to ask first.
"What does it have to do with us, would be a better question," Raeger followed, trying to soften the demanding tone. "They can't blame Artolia for an early winter. We haven't heard anything from the border, and we usually do when there's trouble."
"No, they couldn't blame us for that." Their guest sipped at his tea slowly, blowing across the top to cool it. Mother would have been up in arms over that, but Raeger felt the knots in her shoulders ease a little. Her nurse studied the window with exaggerated interest when she glanced over. "I noticed the Japanese girl at the top of the stair. Is she hired?"
Raeger glanced at her sister, who took the opportunity to push the rest of her cake into her mouth. "No..." Suddenly she was glad Mother had kept Maiya in the background. "No, my father purchased her as a... a gift for my wedding."
Lawfer only nodded. "Early last year the King purchased a body of slaves for excavation projects in the southeast, near the Scorched Lands. They were mostly Northerners from Villnore and the mountains. I am told there was an agreement of some kind with the governor just north of here, but of course that fell through as soon as the roads closed."
She took refuge in her tea. "I'm sorry, I thought he used prisoners for such things."
Elise made a noise around her mouthful, but the knight only glanced at her. "That is correct, usually. Prisoners are still sent to work the mines, and before Villnore opened trade with us, small numbers of them were diverted to construction and excacation." Lawfer shrugged. "Then His Majesty discovered slaves."
"So why's Villnore so pushy, then? I still don't get why they're after us," Elise said. "Or is Father just trying to scare us?"
"I don't know about that," Lawfer replied with a faint smile. "I'm sure he only repeats what he hears."
"I"m told trade is much better to the west," Raeger said softly.
He nodded, tilting his head. "So am I. You're well-informed."
She shook her head, refusing to look at Elise even when her dainty foot nudged her ankle painfully. "That arrangement you mentioned might be the cause. Is that what you're getting at?"
"It's one way to look at it," he said. "I don't know."
"Well that would be stupid," Elise exploded, clapping her teacup down. Raeger winced, imagining a crack snaking to the lip. "If they don't have anything to sell, how are we supposed to buy it? It's such an easy concept. Do they teach logic in Villnore?"
"Elise," she whispered through clenched teeth, trying to smile. A dismissive glance is what she got in response.
Lawfer managed to keep a straight face somehow, shoulders hunching, mouth almost - but not quite - turning up. "I couldn't say. We haven't stayed long enough."
"Oh, come on--"
With his attention on her sister for the moment, Raeger relaxed into her chair and took as deep a breath as she could. The tea had calmed her stomach. Now she felt painfully stiff, as if she'd been sitting there for hours, and the sun had barely moved. She knew Bertha was watching them like a hawk somehow from the corner of her eye.
They didn't look much alike, Lawfer and his father; she saw right away that the planes of his face were narrower, and the surcoat couldn't hide a slimmer frame - slim for a knight, at any rate. There were callouses on his hands, and a long, white scar that ran into his right sleeve. She wondered if they were hard or rough, or if it even made a difference. Was he marked by deeper scars, elsewhere? His face was miraculously untouched. He could have been any courtier in the capitol, with that fine hair curling at the tips.
At least he would be nice to look at. He seemed a decent person, and he was remarkably patient with Elise. It could be an act; if it wasn't, he was blessed with tolerance, and even grace, that she envied.
"Is it true there's a Gorgon in Camille?"
"Ah--"
"Have you seen her ugly snake head? Has anybody turned into stone?"
Raeger took a piece of fudge to nibble on and let her sister do what she did best. Having her along wasn't so bad; watching expressions flit across Lawfer's face was easier when she didn't have to come up with clever things to say. Mother didn't have to know that. She would get an earful from Elise later anyway.
She glanced at the window and sighed. Time might as well have frozen.
*
**
*
The lamps burned until well past eleven, allowing Raeger's parents to draw out what was already a long affair. They occupied Lawfer's father with more polite conversation than she could stomach in a year; she was supposed to entertain her new fiancee in a similar manner, probably, but what she remembered saying only made her wince.
She couldn't recall the last time she'd tried to befriend someone new. Did it involve talking about the weather and commenting on the food? Or saying too much about how one liked fairy stories when one was entirely too old for such childish things? Her only comfort was Lawfer's own hesitant attempts. Elise, who might have happily filled the gaps in conversation, was sent to bed early.
Mother took on the burden of escorting her upstairs. Raeger's shoulders hunched in anticipation, part of her sure someone noticed how quiet she'd been, or overheard something they thought inappropriate. Her nurse had clung unwelcomely close most of the night, always just far enough to be polite, yet close enough to listen if she wanted to.
"Well?" her mother said when they were almost to her room. "Do you like him?"
She hadn't thought it mattered. "He's... nice enough." It was the truth; he didn't make a show of being nice, which always set her teeth on edge. He looked as uncomfortable as she was. "Very polite," she added, feeling she should say more. "I think he must deserve his good reputation."
She stepped on the hem of her gown near the top of the stairs and winced at the sound of snapping thread. Her feet felt heavy, like they'd swelled to fit her shoes and tried to pull apart the seams - it was like walking in clogs. She tugged at the bodice, glancing quickly at her mother, but nothing was loose.
"Good." They paused at Raeger's door, and her mother lifted an eyebrow. "I trust you will be more talkative during the trip. This will be easier if you get to know him before the wedding."
Her face heated. "I don't know what I'm supposed to talk about--"
"It doesn't matter," was the calm response. "He wants to know what he is getting into. Don't you?"
"Of course I do." She knotted her fingers together, refusing to look Lucy in the face. "I know my opinion doesn't matter, but he doesn't look ready for this either."
"Nobody is," Lucy said. "You have time, Raeger. I want you to take advantage of it. Your father wants you to be happy, and I would rather send you to a home you find welcome. Do you understand? We all endure this trial. I'm trying to make this as easy as possible, but you must cooperate."
"Yes..." She squared her shoulders, tried to smooth her face, though she couldn't make herself look up. "Yes mother, I'll try harder."
Lucy pet her shoulder briefly, murmuring good night, and took the light with her when she continued down the hallway to her chambers. Raeger watched until she turned into the next corridor before she shuffled into her sitting room. She could barely muster a smile for the maid's bow.
"Packed already?" she asked, looking at her bare desk. Her music was gone, and all of her writing tools, even Marie's invitation. That panged, but she didn't really want to look at it.
"We have been working all day," Maiya confirmed. "Are you ready?"
Raeger followed her to the other room, pulling her hair out of its net. A pin clinked onto the table when she passed, but she ignored it, digging the others out. Her hair was oiled into its coiffre, and felt cool when it slithered over her neck and into her hands. She twisted it over her shoulder quickly so it wouldn't stain the dress.
"Took you long enough."
She jumped and dropped the pins. "Elise?" She stooped to pick them up and handed them to the maid, watching her sister sit up and shake her curls out. "What are you doing here?"
"What do you think?" Elise snapped. "Mom kept you out there forever. Is she mad?"
Raeger shook her head. "She always has something to say. You know that."
"I guess." Her sister blinked blearily, fighting back a yawn. "So what do you think of him?"
She shrugged, flinching again when she felt Maiya's hands at her collar. Elise smirked. "He's nice enough. You met him yourself - what do you think?"
"I think he's nice enough," she repeated, kicking her feet against the bedpost. "Maiya thinks he has pretty hair."
Raeger turned to look at her maid, but Maiya worked diligently at releasing her from the dress, cheeks tinted only slightly. "It is very-- very shocking," she finally said, sneaking a glance at Elise that she barely caught.
"Striking," Raeger murmured softly, shrugging out of her sleeves at the maid's prompting.
The brat had the nerve to giggle. "I knew you liked him!"
"I didn't say anything like that!"
"Yes you did!" Elise sang out. "I could tell by how long you stared at him. Come on, at least he's pretty. He could have been another Nigel." She paused. "God, I hate his voice. Think of being married to him."
Raeger pursed her lips. "That's not very nice."
"He's fat," Elise said flatly. "And it sounds like he wheezes through broken reeds."
She drew a slow, experimental breath when Maiya loosened her stays, pressing her hands to her ribs. It was almost dizzying. Her maid put a steadying hand on her shoulder. "Well." Raeger sighed, frowning. "Still, he's--"
"Obnoxious." She laughed, and Elise slid off the bed. "Don't mess this up by hesitating too much," she said, her round face growing serious. "He's much better than the leftovers in the capitol. I like him."
Raeger couldn't summon up more than a flimsy protest. She was right - they were all right about how lucky she was to have a chance like this fall into her lap. Lawfer's ranking didn't matter - it might have meant something in the capitol, but the Etherell family was tied to its estate, and that estate needed money. The glory of the Millais household was worth its weight in gold. The king had heaped more praise and honors and money upon his father than anyone else she could remember, except perhaps that mercenary.
And perhaps there was something to be said for a husband that was absent most of the year. Raeger wasn't afraid of solitude. And if she grew sick of it - well, she would be in the capitol, and most anything could be had there for a price, when the season was right.
The idea left her feeling slightly sick. Never that. But she could journey home instead - with his retainers to protect her, even. It wasn't a bad deal.
"Go to sleep, Rae." Elise wandered toward the door with a spectacular yawn. "See you tomorrow."
What would a day without Elise and her griping be like?
"Good night," she said, a few seconds too late.
*
**
*
"I can't believe you just sat there," Elise said. "You couldn't think of anything to say? Nothing? What about those books?"
Raeger sighed. "Should I read to him instead of talking?"
"At least you'd be using your voice!"
She wrapped Tales From the Ancients and fit it into a woven bag, to be put into her personal trunk. The bare shelves in her rooms niggled at her dreams all night, waking her up to wonder if the maids followed her orders in packing the day before. Maiya reassured her over a breakfast she never managed to finish, promised she oversaw the entire ordeal herself, and Raeger wasn't sure why that was such a relief.
Bertha hadn't left any of her smocks in the wardrobe for her use during the trip, so she had to carry the small sheaf of bound paper the maid had found for her to use, and fit her room keys into the tiny hidden pocket in her skirt. It was a lovely sky blue and comfortably warm, but utterly useless otherwise.
"I use my voice more than enough," she replied, shooting a frown at the brat over another book. The bag was going to be heavy. "Why is this only my fault? He didn't say anything either."
"Of course not," Elise said archly. "Men don't talk. That's our job."
Raeger rolled her eyes and pushed the last volume into the bag, pulling it closed. There was just enough room. The folio with her favorite music was at the bottom, almost thick enough to be another book. She'd wanted to fit an ink box and some letter parchment in, but even if they stopped at an inn with lamps on the way to Artolia, there wouldn't be enough time to waste on writing.
"So," she said thoughtfully after a moment, hefting the bag. As expected, she couldn't lift it more than an inch off the floor. "If I put some pants on..."
"You wouldn't do that. How stupid could-- ... W-would you?" She shrugged, and Elise's horrified expression almost broke her composure. "Don't you dare! Who has to listen to mother all the way to--"
"You're such an idiot, Elise." She let herself laugh to take the sting from the words. "Go get somebody to carry this, and then we can go to the chapel."
Her sister got up, grumbling, and stormed to the door. She spoke to someone outside, though Raeger couldn't hear who, and the door drifted shut. She was tempted to look, but they would let her know if concerned her - it would be Mother come to make suggestions on how one made oneself presentable and attractive, or Bertha to give her a talking-to about the conversation at tea yesterday. She hadn't said a word about it in the morning, but Maiya had also been present; the older servants, at least, had the sensitivity to keep talk of slavery away from the purchased help.
The night went by so fast at some points, so slowly at others - agonizingly so at supper, when she had to listen to her parents pretend she was a good catch by extolling virtues she didn't have. It reminded her of the man they purchased her harpsicord from, and how he'd polished it to a high gleam and tuned the strings, while neglecting to tell them how old its keys were, how many cracks were waiting on the ridges of bone, or how expensive it would be to replace them. The best of its kind, he'd promised. Made by Heinlin himself.
Raeger left her books to sit at the keys, rubbing a scratch on the wooden bed. She doubted his claim about its maker, but it really was the best of its kind. It was friendlier than the laquered monster in their parlor at the capitol.
When the door opened again a few minutes later she was ready to face both Lucy and Bertha at once - it wouldn't be the first time - but Lawfer was inching through the door when she turned the stool to face his direction, led by her maid. Elise didn't follow.
Maiya immediately bowed. Their guest cleared his throat and did the same, looking uncomfortable. "My lady suggested we escort you to the shrine." It had the sound of a rehearsed line.
Oh did she. Raeger hoped surprise was all that registered in her expression. "I see." She couldn't leave it at that; if her response was too neutral, they would only walk away sure she was displeased. And it wasn't that at all. They were only doing as they were told. Lawfer must be used to following orders, and even her father wouldn't turn Lucy down when she had a 'suggestion.' "In that case..." She looked around and pointed to a chair. "Please sit down. Elise should be back in a few minutes."
She turned back to the keys. They'd lost their magic of a moment ago. Sitting there seemed instantly foolish - she wasn't playing. Her music was buried under her books, and Elise's collection, which still sat on the stool next to her, waiting to be packed, was so simple as to be insulting. She hadn't touched any of it since her second year.
To be fair, Elise had only played for three, and she practiced as much as any other girl, Raeger thought. She herself had been a special case. Her friends were far away, and the time between letters often stretched to weeks. It was reading or practice, for her. The shrine had long since ceased to be her responsibility.
"My lady said you're quite good," Lawfer said after a short pause, propping his elbows on his knees. "How long have you been playing?"
Raeger thought back, hooking her fingers on the key bed. "I don't know. Since my tenth birthday, maybe? Father bought this when I asked to learn."
"It's a bit unusual. Most girls I've met prefer to sing."
"I didn't much like voice," Raeger said.
"I would expect not." Heat crept into her cheeks, and he leapt from his seat as if burned. "T- that isn't what I meant! You just-- it seems an outgoing sport, singing, and..."
A laugh erupted before Raeger could swallow it. "Sit down," she said when she could school it out of her voice. She still had to bite her lip to fight a smile. "Sit," she repeated when he hesitated, nodding to the chair. "It's alright."
He scrubbed a hand through his hair, obeying reluctantly. "The princess plays." His hair flopped over his eyes and he left it, hiding behind it, tapping a rhythm on his knee. "She prefers to sing, and her friends have followed suit, which I hear has quite annoyed her."
Raeger had to work to keep her face smooth. "I hear she's annoyed quite often."
"Only when things don't go her way," he replied with a twist to the corner of his mouth. "Which doesn't happen often. I... was hoping to hear you play. If you're willing."
She turned her gaze to the keys. "Well--" Elise seemed to be taking forever. Had she run across the manor for help? Raeger wanted to sigh, but she held that in check and tried to recall something playable - anything. "My music is packed, so I'm afraid I can't do very much."
Lawfer offered a tentative smile. "Anything is fine. I haven't heard real music in months."
Now that he asked, of course, every scrap of music she'd ever played somehow slipped from her mind. She remembered her favorite bits from Ingild's pieces - the ones Elise hated, coincidentally, which was enough to make up Raeger's mind. She couldn't grasp a memory of the notes to save her life, but her fingers remembered which keys to rest on. Maybe hearing the sound drift down the hallway would hurry her sister's step.
She played something that made her think of the palace, though she'd never visited on her own before. Father called it coy and snobbish, but she thought of it as playful instead.
Music was always loud in her small study, but it seemed twice as strident with Lawfer listening, thrumming through her arms and behind her eyes. It made her feel lightheaded for a moment. A deaf man would have noticed a mistake, had she made one. Luck was with her for once; she finished the piece with a flourish, as her master had taught. It was silly, but Raeger felt as foolish.
"Ingild?" Lawfer asked thoughtfully. "My mother liked him. We have a collection locked in a trunk somewhere."
She couldn't help looking up at that. "Really?" Their own collection was haphazard, copied from friends, or friends of friends, and not all of it was even meant for her choice of instruments. The piece she'd just played was a variation on a string manuscript that she had to transpose for an appropriate sound.
A knock at the door - or rather, the impatient rap of a shoe - signaled her sister's tardy arrival, and Elise lingered in the doorway, hugging a narrow wooden case to her chest. "We should hurry up. The luncheon will start soon and Mother wants us back on time."
The prospect of another formal meal made Raeger's stomach twist. She followed with a sigh, not thinking to hide it that time, and offered to carry the box. Elise refused, and it was just as well; they went the long way, down the grand staircase in front, because taking a guest down the back stairs would have been improper. They made a lot of noise tramping down the stairs - it was impossible not to when Lawfer's best efforts at walking quietly still resulted in an ungodly thuming descent that almost made Raeger laugh. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. He hadn't the flighty grace of some of the boys in the capitol, but he seemed more substantial because of it. Substantial enough to stomp right through the stairs in his armor.
Lawfer caught her glance and shrugged, his smile sheepish. Maybe he was thinking the same thing.
Outside the sun was blanketed by wispy clouds, the sky an ashy blue made drab by the yellowing tops of the maples. Light pierced the veil to descend to earth like golden fingers, hazy like rainbows, that yet looked solid enough to touch if one could reach far enough. She and Elise led the way, Lawfer and Maiya falling into step behind them on the tiled path. It led them around the house on the east side and along the outskirts of the kitchen garden, where the cook's boys were harvesting herbs just outside the door, and they turned onto a smaller, wooded path just beyond the house's precincts.
The chapel was quite far from the house, a ten minute walk when one was free to move as fast as one wished. It would have been visible from the house if not for the small wood. The scent of woodsmoke tickled her nose long before they arrived, and then the sound of a broom sweeping over the stone steps. The sun was free from its veil when they arrived, lingering on the shrine maiden's hair so it shined like silver.
Raeger had marveled at it since the woman arrived with her husband to care for the chapel. Even when the sun's light waned and faded again, it looked like nothing other than a braid of silver thread, or molten metal flowing over her shoulders.
"We'll stay out here," Lawfer told her softly, halting at the gate. Maiya nodded uncertainly when Raeger looked at her.
"You've brought offerings?" the maiden asked with a glance to Elise. Rather than waiting for the obvious answer, she turned to the door. "Come along."
The chapel hoarded the day's warmth, smelling so strongly of cedar the air was almost too thick to breathe. Light strained through the cloudy glass windows and danced over the altar on dust motes and the shimmering wave of heat emanating up from the brazier. The shrine maiden waited while Elise deposited her burden on a bench and reached inside.
"Mother said this is her offering for the winter months, if you'll stay. Rooms will be made up for you in the house."
The woman smiled for the first time, and her voice, usually direct, softened in turn. "We would be happy to accept her offer. My husband will defend the manor with your retainers, if necessary."
Elise beamed. "I'll tell her." She removed a velvet pouch and let the box fall closed with a click. "Here," she said, turning to Raeger, her hand already in the bag, and proffered a flaky white stone. "It's the last of the amber. Lucky you."
Raeger took it without comment and followed the maiden to the altar and its smouldering brazier. Dried apple blossoms were strewn over the velvet coverlet, wilting at the edges. She approached cautiously, feeling persperation on her brow, but her silver-haired guide seemed unaffected.
"I'm told you will marry at the beginning of the new year," the woman said, watching her kneel.
Raeger nodded. "This is my final offering here." It was easier to say than she thought it should be. "Is... amber an appropriate offering for this?"
Her smile was very faint this time. "We are told the Battle Maiden favors it. But even the poorest offering will be accepted if it is sincere." She offered the tongs, handle first, and Raeger took them. "Say your peace."
Her slender hand rested, for a fleeting moment, on Raeger's forehead, and she whispered a benediction in her cool alto, almost making up for the heat. It would have been a pleasant singing voice.
Raeger placed her offering atop the charcoal, and fragrant amber quickly overwhelmed the shadow of cedar, lifting her thoughts away on a sweet note. She didn't know what to pray for; a happy marriage, a prosperous estate? Imagining either circumstance was hard. Her heart was here at home, among the wild grass at the edge of their property, and the firey maples when they shed their leaves before winter. With the harpsichord in her study, and the trunk of her old smocks that she knew was secreted away in some dusty corner of the old attic. With her friends, scattered like leaves across the western territories.
She prayed for fortune - of any kind. For no war, accompanied by an apology for the Battle Maiden's sensibilities. She thrived on war, picking heroic souls from the battlefield to send to Odin. Let Villnore's ambitions pass them by, she prayed. The Battle Maiden was also the goddess of fate; if anybody could twist the strings, it would be her.
Raeger stayed until her offering burned away. Her sister clearly wasn't planning to make an offering, and she felt reluctant to leave. The shrine maiden stood patiently by her side, as still as the likeness of the goddess above the altar.
Her last prayer, carried on the fading wisps of fragrance, was for Maiya. Men said Fate was a cruel mistress, but Raeger knew She could be kind, too. She hoped they would see that mercy in the future, that her prayers were not hollow. One could never tell, with gods.
The afternoon was moist and heavy when they left, promising rain. Maiya huddled close to her, and Raeger offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile.
Even if Fate didn't intervene, she would do her best. That was all anyone could ask.
*
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I had the hardest time finishing this one off, and eventually gave up. I do apologize for any typos or errors. Most of this was written as bits and pieces when the mood struck me - usually at around four or five in the morning - and I had a bit of trouble getting it to do what I wanted.
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Date: 2007-07-12 04:27 pm (UTC)Tangential thought: for some reason I find myself wondering if Raeger resembles more her deceased mother or her father. Also, are she and Elise blood sisters? Judging by the ages I have in my head (a five-year difference or so between them) then I'd go with 'yes', but I don't know if you've made any reference to when Raeger's stepmother entered the familiy other than to mention Raeger's age when her father remarried.
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Date: 2007-07-12 05:24 pm (UTC)There's so much stuff I haven't written down. Ahahah, oops! Better fix that.
I'm not starting this project on the right foot, clearly. XD If I'm going to try for novel-length, I should also try for planning of novel proprotions.
No pressure on the artwork. :P Though if you draw any, I will be thrilled.