A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed]

A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - Printable Version

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RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 08-28-2019

Ishara’s hand closed into a fist and she brought it back to her side, refusing to take the horn out of her own stubbornness. It was true that she didn’t want this stranger to have the horn. It was also true that it wasn’t hers to give or to take. It was Eoghan’s.

She willed herself to leave the horn with Julianna and take the subject up with her husband and Eoghan later. Her stomach turned in knots to think of the horn leaving the country in the hands of a foreigner, never to be seen again. Her eyes stung with tears remembering the night Darcy had given it to Eoghan after he had gone missing, lost and thought dead, in the great forest for many days.

If you’re ever in need. Use this. I will always come to help you, my son.

It had been a long time since Eoghan had used it to call for his father’s help. She blinked back the tears that threatened to wash over her. Eoghan no longer needed his parents. And now that he was a grown man, his problems would, perhaps, become more than his parents could handle for him anyhow.

“You have done nothing!” Her voice rose in pitch and though she cleared Julianna with her words, the tone suggested otherwise. “Keep the horn.” She said more calmly. “Eoghan had his reasons for giving it to you. You... don’t be so flippant with his generosity. And I...won’t contradict his wishes.”

She paused before changing the subject. “I...brought you some sewing to keep your hands busy. The nights are growing long. Come, we will do a bit now and talk. I will tell you about that horn.” She was already moving towards the table. She opened the bag and removed the clothing that needed repair. She set an article aside for Julianna and took one for herself.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 08-28-2019

Julianna pulled the horn back to her with a huff. Irritated that Ishara now refused to take it. She wanted to understand the turmoil she sensed in the other woman, but it seemed she was content to simply pull Julianna back and forth in a torrent of her own emotions.

Her tail slowed to a calmer rhythm. Her face softened when she noticed her light green eyes were brighter now with un-shed tears. Though she absolved Julianna of any wrong-doing, the princess did not feel better about the situation, but she did not press the matter. "I'm not-" She had begun to argue but thought better of it. Her mouth snapped shut with a click of her teeth. Then she sighed. "I'm sorry." Was all she said. It was the only thing she could think of. She was holding the horn in both hands, again. Ishara was warning her against being fickle with her son’s gift. “I won't."

The princess decided then that she wanted to get to know Ishara a little better. Maybe endear herself to her if she could, if only to make her visit a bit more bearable with a mutual understanding. Luckily, Ishara mentioned that she had a task for them. Not one that she was particularly keen on or even able to do. Julianna moved with her to the table. She sat, keeping the horn nearby. "I don't know how to sew," she admitted. Though, she didn't sound particularly embarrassed about it. She knew a lot of other things, that so called proper ladies didn't.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 09-05-2019

Ishara was surprised that the princess did not know how to throw a stitch. “You don’t sew?” Her voice pitched high with the question, though she wasn’t trying to be unkind with her tone. She was genuinely astonished that a woman of her birth did not know such a staple of womanhood.

“I will show you. Come.” Ishara pointed to a chair at the table. She distributed a simple wool dress to Julianna. “The hem has come out. I will show you how to repair it.” She showed Julianna how to thread a needle and throw stitches for the simple repair. Once she saw that Julianna could manage without step-by-step instruction, Ishara picked a piece for herself and set to work.

“I bet a young lady such as yourself has many marriage prospects.” She said to initiate what she felt would be benign conversation. It was a nosy question, perhaps, but she was curious. “Are you betrothed?”

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 09-05-2019

It was not long into her lesson with Ishara that Julianna learned that she did not like sewing. The delicate task took a bit of finesse that she was unaccustomed to. Her fingers did not want to cooperate with the tiny needle and fine stitching. With lengthy instruction she managed to get the technique down enough that the other woman did not feel the need to hover over her work, allowing her to mend other items. Which she did much faster than the princess.

Julianna did not look up when Ishara spoke, entirely too focused on the work she was doing. Invested enough now that she didn't not want to mess it up.

"No, madam, I am not," she replied to questioning of her status as a exceptionally eligible bachelorette. "There have been a few flimsy offers, but-" Julianna cursed as she stabbed herself with the needle. She lifted the injured finger to her mouth. "I don't think marriage would suit me," she admitted. "I have no interest in it."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 10-17-2019

Ishara kept her eyes mostly on her own work, but she glanced up from time to time to monitor Julianna’s progress. She was a quick learner it seemed.

Her head jerked upwards more sharply when Julianna admitted her feelings towards marriage. She tried to hide her surprise, by quickly lowering her eyes to her own work. She pressed her lips together. Hadn’t she felt the same way when she was a younger woman? But Ishara’s fears had been out of the servitude and oppression that she felt marriage had represented. Well-founded fears with the wrong man. So many of them were wrong men.

“Why not?” She asked, probing at the underlying cause for Julianna’s feelings towards marriage.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 10-18-2019

Julianna's shoulders hunched with visible displeasure of the current thread of conversation. Her ears pinned backwards beneath the hood she still resented having to wear. She finally looked up her sewing to observe Ishara's face. She could tell the other woman did not like her answer. She probably would also not like the rest of her answers if this conversation continued, since she was so determined to not like Julianna.

The princess sighed, allowing the mending she was working on to fall into her lap with her hands. She gazed across the room to the crackling fire with an expression that was difficult to read.

"I just...don't see myself getting married," she admitted tentatively. Still unsure of how to broach the topic with her, and she did not feel like she could confide in the other woman. "I do not think it would serve me in any way. I don't need a marriage to be queen. Though, I don't expect to be queen for quite some time." She began to sew again. "I would make a poor wife, anyway." She forced a laugh.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 10-20-2019

In contrast to the princess, Ishara’s hands never stopped at her sewing. So expert was she with the task that Ishara didn’t need to look at what she was doing currently. Her muscles would carry her for the moment, while she carefully evaluated Julianna, following her wandering and wistful gaze as the young woman looked about the room.

To Ishara it seemed plainly obvious that Julianna did not understand marriage at all. “What do you think marriage is for?” She posited a terribly philosophical question she wasn’t even sure she herself could fully grasp. But perhaps it would be a fun exercise to see what she could get out of the foolish young woman.

She made a sharp noise like a hum in her throat when Julianna said she wouldn’t make a good wife.

A womanly sound of judgment.

“And what do you think makes a good wife? Are you not willing to try?”

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 10-21-2019

Once again, Julianna quit sewing to look at Ishara. Her feelings of being a prisoner were not assuaged by this bit of interrogation for her company. She felt as if she was being tested by the other woman, but about what she had no idea.

"That's a very...difficult question to answer, madam. If I were to look to my own parents as an example, it's a partnership I suppose. My parents are different, but complimentary. They support each other through any difficulties they face. They're..." Julianna's nose wrinkled as she paused, looking as if she was remembering something a bit distasteful. "Passionate about one another."

The princess took a moment to tie off the thread, like Ishara had showed her, before folding up the item and placing it on a small pile of garments she had completed. "But then again, we don't have arranged marriages in the south. So, to some I suppose marriage is a bargaining chip, or an opportunity for a better life."

Julianna's ears fell beneath the hood of Eoghan's cloak. All in all the coverage did nothing to hide them when they moved so much to advertise her feelings. Ishara continued to sound exasperated and impatient with her. That scoff of a noise she made hurt her feelings, at best. It confirmed her feelings that this was not a woman she could confide in. Her commentary about Julianna being unwilling to try was like a spiteful stake in her heart.

"I do not know how to tend to a home," she explained. "Even my mother can embroider and cook."

Julianna paused for a moment. Pursed her lips thoughtfully, before humming. "But then again, I suppose it would depend on what a man would fancy in a woman." Ishara's pointed questioning seemed to have unintentionally enlightened her to a new way of thinking. "Though you have certain similarities, you are very different from my mother. You each have very fine, husbands I would say. Why should I feel less useful just because I know different things."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 10-29-2019

Ishara was quiet as Julianna worked through her own thoughts. She was pleasantly surprised at the younger woman’s revelations. Indeed, there was more to being a wife than keeping a home. She laughed and it wasn’t meant to be mean.

“Yes, women contain multitudes.” She seemed to be agreeing with Julianna’s observations. “If only the majority of men could come to grips with that.”

She sighed and tied off the row a stitches she had worked on. “While you are free to choose a husband it doesn’t seem any less complicated than our arranged system of arranged marriages. The common thread is that someone is so often looking to gain.”

She folded the garment and began putting up the sewing supplies. “I had no choice in my husband… but he has been better to me than I could have ever dreamed. We love one another the way your parents do, perhaps. Love like that even without choice...” Her gaze drifted off to the hearth for a moment as she rambled seemingly without point.

“If you’d like a husband, I could arrange it for you.” She offered. “Not Eoghan. We have promised him to a fine young lady here. Sophia Kingston. From a good family. And they get along well enough. She is a pretty girl and Eoghan likes them pretty. She loves him already, I can tell. Though she seems frightened, maybe, by his wildness. She will be an obedient wife but I hope she has enough backbone to keep him in line...”

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 11-01-2019

"Oh, I don't want a husband," Julianna attempted to interject, but Ishara was on a but of a tangent now. She was quick to point out that Julianna couldn't have her son. Even though she had not expressed any desire of the sort. Ishara continued, uninhibited by Julianna's blank expression. Talking about a girl that Julianna didn't know because she didn't know anyone in the village.

The princess heard herself laughing as Ishara commented on Eoghan's wildness and her doubt that this 'Sophia' would be able to keep him in line. Just the night before the man had come home injured to find what he thought to be an intruder and attacked her with an ax. She looked towards a spot on the floor where she could very clearly the spot where she'd buried her dagger into the wood as a warning.

She'd certainly been keeping him in line then. With a knife to his throat.

Ishara glanced at her sharply, she assumed from her bout of laughter. Which she did better to control, but her ears perked to attention. She still wore the barest hints of a smirk. "I don't want a husband," she said again, because Ishara seemed like the type of woman who dabbled in a bit of matchmaking. "I'm not looking to steal Eoghan away from his betrothed, either."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 11-03-2019

Now that they were simply conversing, Ishara arranged herself regally. She crossed her ankles and held her body at an angle that faced Julianna. She brushed any wrinkles out of her lap that may have been made by the sewing she had previously put there.

“You don’t want a husband or you don’t want an Eskran husband?”

Ishara’s question was a challenge.

She arranged the draping sleeves of her dress and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “I suppose there isn’t anyone of high enough station for you to accept here. Not even Eoghan. Isn’t that right? His availability is no matter because you’d turn him away anyhow. You are a princess and have your station to look after, of course.”

Ishara’s face was a blank mask that did nothing to hide the rage of indignation underneath. She put words into Julianna’s mouth, assuming that the princess saw them all as northern barbarians. Isn’t that what the southern aristocratic type so loved to call them?

She couldn’t put her finger on what it was about Julianna that bothered her. Her station perhaps? Her privileged upbringing that showed so obviously in her lack of household skill. The way she had seemed to judge women like Ishara who were bred and raised only with the idea that they would be a wife and mother. Julianna was bred for more than that. And she could so easily choose a life that was never offered to Ishara and Julianna would choose this other life because it what --- the alternative seemed beneath her? Julianna would refuse to stoop as low as Ishara had to. Is that how she saw it?

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 11-03-2019

The princess knew when she was being tested. Her entire upbringing had been a test of sorts, so it was hard to trick her into one. Julianna watched the way Ishara arranged herself. Her posture was defensive, even though she had turned to converse with her more comfortably. Just as contradictory as their conversation. Julianna's ears were still at attention as she cocked her head. She pursed her lips in thought. Attempting to decide whether or not she wanted to play along with Ishara's games.

"I think I misspoke," she suggested. "I'm not looking for a husband. Maybe, I will find one anyway. I'd considered myself quite lucky to find an Eskran man interested in me. I've not had the opportunity to meet many of the men in the village, but I think there might be more Eskran men interested in a combative woman who is good with daggers than southern ones. Perhaps my disinterest in finding a husband stems from the same problem the Eoghan is facing. Who would be able to keep me in line?"

Julianna sighed wistfully and pretended to be in deeper thought, while Ishara continued to talk at her. She was angry now, Julianna could tell. She wanted everything and nothing from the princess simultaneously. There was no pleasing her, so she chose to go with honesty. Julianna hadn't even considered being courted by Eoghan until the multiple times that Ishara mentioned it being an impossibility.

"Oh no, we seem to have come to a misunderstanding Ceiledhia." Julianna's face smoothed into a gentle smile, though her green eyes held the gaze of Ishara's paler ones almost defiantly. "I said I was not looking to steal him. I did not say I would deny him, were he to choose to pursue me. And why would I? He's handsome and strong and seems to enjoy a challenge."

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 11-10-2019

Ishara hummed thoughtfully as Julianna theorized about the tolerance of northern versus southern men. “It’s a culture-wide phenomenon. Eskrans are hearty, wild, and proud people. Perhaps you would do well to find yourself a stern Eskran husband. Speaking from experience, Eskran men can make fine spouses for stubborn women.”

Ishara stiffened some as Julianna complimented Eoghan. She dipped her head and looked at her hands that hadn’t moved. Delicate, long fingers like those of a statue. “Thank you for speaking well of him.” She forced a smile. “You recognize a good man when you see one. I do not believe your marriage prospects are as dire as you make them seem. Deep down you want a good man. And perhaps you’ll earn yourself one while you’re here. It would be an honor to have an Eskran man marry a future queen of the south.”

She stood up suddenly, essentially announcing that she was finished with the conversation. “Well, Princess, thank you for humoring me.” Ishara gathered up the garments and tucked them away into her bag.

“One thing I learned about men… if you let them treat you like a prize to be won while they court you, then they’ll treat you like a thing on a shelf when they finally have you. It seems you understand this already. At least implicitly.”

With those final words, Ishara made her exit leaving Julianna alone with a dying fire in the cabin that her son used to occupy.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - megs - 11-11-2019

If Julianna were a more spiteful person, she would have decided then and there that her entire mission would be to make Eoghan fall madly in love with her. Luckily for Ishara, Julianna did not care enough and did not know how to make a man fall for her, regardless. That aside, she did not have any expectations to see that much of Eoghan.

He could have his pretty-faced and timid fiancee and she would...do...something. All in all she was in hiding and flirting with men was not particularly subtle.

Julianna thanked Ishara for her visit (it was over apparently) and walked her to the door. While she was left wondering if Ishara was had satisfied whatever urge had brought her away from the village she didn't dwell on it for too long. The fire was dying and the cabin was quiet and Julianna was feeling very much like she wanted to ignore every order given to her by the overbearing matron.

The princess layered herself in one of her heavier shifts and a dress with long sleeves. She was still waiting on warmer clothing that was being sent by her family. She had arrived with a pair of heavy stockings, her cloak and fur-lined boots that had been a gift from Darcy. She put all of them on and topped it off with the cloak that Eoghan had given to her.

She had decided to go for a walk in the woods near to the cabin. Just a short walk. What was the worst that could happen? She took a snack of bread and cheese and a waterskin and not much else with her. A short walk! It would be fine.

There was snow on the ground, but it was not actively snowing while Julianna meandered through the forest. Her boots crunched in the snow banks, leaving obvious tracks that she assumed she would be able to follow back. Julianna wasn't sure what time it was or how long she had been gone. The sun felt like it moved differently in Eskra and it was difficult to keep track of.

Maybe an hour had gone by? She was shivering, but trying to ignore it. She would just have to get use to the freezing temperatures.

It seemed to be very suddenly that it started getting darker. She had assumed that it was only mid afternoon, but the sun looked like it was sinking ever further behind the mountains. A strong wind picked up. It was biting cold and Julianna held the furred hood of Eoghan's cloak tighter to her face. The wind didn't relent. In fact, it picked up and pushed her around and brought a snowfall with it. She turned around, knowing that she needed to return to the cabin, but in a matter of moments the boot prints she had been so reliant on were buried beneath a fresh flurry of snow.

Her heart pounded in her frozen ears. A panic twisting in her stomach. She didn't know how to get to the cabin otherwise. All of the trees looked the same and could go on and on for miles in any direction. A feline whimper escaped her as she turned circles in the worsening storm. The scene was darker now with the remnants of the sun hidden behind clouds.

Julianna briefly thought of the horn, and Eoghan's instructions. And then how she had left it in the cottage on the table to prove nothing to no one but herself. It wasn’t like she’d figured out how it worked either.

The forest was getting darker and colder. Julianna was soaked to the bone and shivering so much that her jaw clench together painfully.

Through the flash blizzard Julianna spotted a tree with a large base and hole in the bottom. Maybe she could fit inside, and at least get out of the wind and snow. Either she would wait out the blizzard or be buried in a white tomb.

The hollowed out stump was just large enough for her to curl up in, but she was surprised to find that it was already occupied. Four kittens were already snuggled up in a tight knit pile. They were alone as far as Julianna could tell. "Hello babies." They were big balls of fluffy fur that reminded her of Frostfang. Though these did not share his coloring. She wondered if their mother was out in the blizzard somewhere. Was she safe? Would she come back for them?

Julianna moved the pile of kittens just enough to wrap her form around them so they were all protected from the storm. They protested with gentle mews, but were docile otherwise. It didn't take them long to pile back up in the warmth she provided. "Perhaps, we can survive this together," she encouraged with chattering teeth.

Or maybe they would die together.

RE: A Princess for Wintersfeast [Closed] - saronym - 12-03-2019

As Eoghan went about his duties at the temple to Rhonna, his mind was occupied with a princess. The smell in the air told him a snowstorm was coming. He thought of the wood pile outside the cabin and how he could bring some inside for her. She might find the wind alarming and he could warn her there would be nothing to worry about.

He thought about her curled up in a ball in his bed hiding from the storm. Alone and far from home. Maybe she wouldn't mind him staying it out with her. Though that would make his parents worry.

He hurried to fill the perpetually burning lanterns with plenty of oil to last the night.

Frostfang was left to follow at his own pace as Eoghan rode his horse down from the temple to the cabin. He knocked loudly on the door and waited for Julianna to answer.

….

He pounded more loudly wondering if she could be sleeping.

"It's Eoghan." He announced in case she was afraid to show herself to another visitor.

….

"Julianna?"

He went inside and found the place empty and the fire burned down to glowing embers. He frowned as he poked around. There were signs she'd eaten breakfast. The bed two neatly made. He found the Horn of Sabella safely hidden and tucked away under the pillow.

He began to worry more in earnest as he handled the horn but there were no signs of a struggle inside the home. Frostfang's meow greeted him as he went back outside.

He folded his arms and stared at the front of the cabin and then began to examine the ground. He easily found his own tracks leading to and from the house. Frostfang's little pads in the snow around the entry. His own tracks crossed over an apparent smaller set leading away from the house.

"Come Frostfang." He clicked his tongue at the cat and pointed at the ground. They would track where she went.

He tracked Julianna's meandering path for a while in the woods before the storm began in earnest and ruined the trail. He was forced to dismount and leading his horse painstakingly as the trail continued to diminish from sight.

He pulled his cloak tightly around him and covered his mouth with a strip of cloth to protect his face from the biting wind. Frostfang was indispensable in the search. He meowed at Eoghan when he found a clump of fur caught in the leafless bramble patch that would bloom into a bush in the spring. Eoghan ound a strip of fabric on a low hanging tree branch resembling the material of the cloak he’d given Julianna.

The search was becoming impossible with the low visibility. The cold was settling into even Eoghan who was an experienced hunter. It was dangerous to be out in these conditions. The cold could creep up and sap your strength in an instant. Eoghan stopped, closed his eyes, and wrestled with his will to keep going knowing that he was placing himself, his horse, and Frostfang in danger. Images of her came to him. Visions of her becoming disoriented and lost in the snow. Shivering and alone. Where would she turn?

His eyes popped open. Shelter. Shelter. She would take shelter.

He turned suddenly and trudged on for a few more minutes to the treehole. He’d hiked these woods all his life and not too far there was an old giant sequoia with a hole in its base. He’d ducked inside once as a boy to wait out a rainstorm.

Frostfang beat him to the treehole and his fervent meows told Eoghan their quarry was inside. He approached the entrance and then ducked down to peer into the dark. “Julianna?”