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A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome]

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Edda Edda Find all posts by this user being edda is suffering Posts:568 Joined:Aug 2013 Character:Edda Eglantine Server:Balmung Reputation: 303 A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] | #1 12-08-2014, 08:56 AM ((Um, so... I've never done anything like this before, like forum RP or story stuff or anything. At this point already I feel as if I've already cocked the whole thing up, but what the hell, right? At the very least I can supply a few good laughs. Like most homo sapiens, I get a bit nervous at the thought of others reading my writing, but I would appreciate feedback, mostly the negative-yet-constructive kind, but I suppose beggars can't be choosers. Anyway, the background for this story was left somewhat vague on purpose, just know that this is Edda in her boring as FUG home but... it's different... I guess??????? Free shrugs over here ladies, I could do this all night. This is the part where I scurry off into the darkness and pretend I never posted this for a few hours. Wheeeee!)) It was, perhaps, unreasonable to expect anything but clement weather in Summerford. Aside from the occasional storm clouds and regular yet short-lived rainstorms that drifted in from across the sea, it was a rather fair part of Eorzea, if only slightly less than it had been before the Calamity. It had been scarcely a bell since the sun had been fully in the sky, and the morning clouds had already begun their journey across the Strait of Merlthor. There was a chorus of birds from the garden outside, and the sounds of retainers beginning their routine began to echo throughout the building. It was a gorgeous day, and yet Edda was nothing short of wretched. She awoke to the sound of M’jhimei entering her room with fresh clothes and a washbowl as she did every sun for as long as Edda could remember. The wood floor was cold from the previous night, and Edda shivered as she made her way over to wash and allow M’jhimei to dress her. They exchanged not a word, a recent development after Edda’s sudden return home. Perhaps borne out of her own stubbornness, or her father’s orders to her retainers –whatever they were- Edda sat in silence as M’jhimei brushed and styled her hair. After inspecting herself in the mirror with great apathy, Edda made her way down to the dining hall where breakfast awaited, along with her father. Her father Eamon sat at the head of a table that could seat thirty, and made no outward note of her arrival in the room. He was a sharp looking man, with slicked back hair and narrow, appraising eyes that never seemed to look anything but disinterested. Edda sat to his right in silence as she began to eat her breakfast – poached dodo eggs, perch, and toast with apples and cheese. Eamon poured over whatever news and mail had come in that morning, and opted to ignore Edda until she had nearly finished her meal. “Settling in?” He asked, setting his papers aside. Had it been asked by anyone else, Edda would have thought it a flippant remark, but her father was always serious.  Edda delayed her answer by taking a drink of orange juice. “Nothing has changed here.” “Is there any reason it might?” “No,” Edda replied quickly, and her mind drifted to a few trunks of her unpacked luggage, still sitting in the front hall. Eamon studied her for a moment, a faint smile on his lips. “Are you really so angry with me?” “I am not angry.” A lie. “Well, whatever it is, I would suggest you get over it quickly. It’s bad enough with one child moping about the house every sun. I daresay your mother has gotten her way for far too long.” “Where is mother, by the way?” Edda had noticed her absence at breakfast, but it was not unusual for her to take breakfast in bed sometimes, as Ennis did. “Gone to Gridania, early this morning.” Faucillien, Chief Retainer to the family, began serving tea. “That dreadful Aunt of hers finally passed away. A living relic, she was. May Thal keep her soul close or some such, though I wouldn’t blame him should he want to send her back.” Edda only met her Great Aunt when she was still nursing, and has no recollection of the woman at all. “You didn’t see her very often,” Edda said plainly, but her tone was not accusatory. “Three times,” Eamon said. “And trust me, the first time was more than enough. I’ll be content to never receive a letter from her again.” Faucillien cracked a smile as he stood with his back to the wall, but it went unnoticed. Leaning forward slightly, Eamon softened his voice as he spoke to Edda. “When you are older, you will come to understand that your extended family will not always be your closest allies, if they could even be called allies at all.” Edda smiled an appeasing smile at her father. “I shall endeavor to not trust the family of my future husband, then. Although I hope to have the grace to pay my respects at their burials, when the time comes to do so.” Eamon smiled back as he sipped his tea, his eyebrows quirked in amusement. “Are you sure those Raven fellows didn’t switch you out for a look-alike at Moraby? Such lip, and so early. Or have you been taking lessons from your dear sister?” “I see no cause in hiding my thoughts from you. Did you not say earlier that it was impossible to keep secrets from you?” Edda pursed her lips at the memory of his hand around her wrist and a cold slap across her cheek. He had not been in the wrong, but the easiness of his cruelty and the bitterness of her defeat sat heavy in her heart. “I did say that, yes. If you must spit vitriol to someone then, I suppose it must be me. Do be sure to not allow any of our guests to see it, however. The Sidney family is visiting this evening, as I’m sure you remember.” “Always thinking of the family, aren’t you.” “Yes,” Eamon said. His expression grew serious. “Such is the burden of my position, Edda – a burden you shall one day bear. You’ve no time to be out playing commoner with whatever filth you kept for company. You were only let out there due to your mother’s insistence, and the Twelve know Ennis is at least tolerable when you’re out of the house… But in lieu of your recent actions, it’s apparent that enough is enough.” Edda frowned, a familiar stinging sensation rising to the back of her eyes. “And what would you know of it?” Eamon had always been quick to play his seniority. “A great deal more than you,” he said, ending the conversation. He rose from his chair and handed the papers at the table to Faucillien. He would take them to her father’s office, which had been locked shut ever since Edda had been caught sifting through his private documents several suns ago. “Remember, dinner with the Sidneys. I will have a dress picked out for you.” And with that, he left. With her father and Faucillien gone from the dining hall, a few retainers entered the room to begin clearing the table. Despite being the heir to the business and fortune of her family, Edda had limited power at home, the word of her father presiding over all business and household conduct. She was allowed a degree of selfishness, but anything going against Eamon’s word was a futile venture. It was his name on the gil, and that was where power lie, a lesson Edda had been remiss in remembering. Edda excused herself from the table and made her way to the South Wing of the manor, where her room was. As she passed through the main hall and into the second parlor, she stopped at seeing Ennis descend the staircase at the beginning of the wing. “Finished breakfast already, have we?” Ennis approached Edda quickly, her usual fake smile plastered on her face. Ennis was Edda’s younger sister by two cycles. Born premature, Ennis was a weak and unhealthy girl, although her attitude and mannerisms more than made up for her inherent frailty. She was smaller than Edda in every regard and looked more like their father between the two, with short hair and sharp eyes that never seemed to focus on one thing for very long. “So it would seem,” Edda replied. Every social interaction was a game to Ennis, having been deprived of it even more than Edda had been growing up. It was always a mystery what goal Ennis would have when speaking with Edda, and she was careful enough to never reveal her hand. Talking to her was a chore. Still, Edda smiled at Ennis as she came to stand in front of her. “And I imagine you have as well?” “Oh, yes,” Ennis said. “Dreadful, really. I keep telling father how tired I’ve grown of fish for breakfast. Healthy or not, a little bit of variety never hurt anyone. Would you not agree, dear sister?” Edda had barely opened her mouth before Ennis continued on. “Perhaps I’ve been playing the wrong angle. Do you think mother would agree with me? She has more control over the kitchen stock than anyone here, and I’m sure she wouldn’t mind a change in the menu. But she’s off to Gridania now, to bury the corpse of our dearly departed Aunt Meera. Pity. In any case, how are you? You’ve been home for nearly what, eight suns now? And yet it seems we’ve hardly seen each other except at dinner, and you know father won’t let me say much at the table. Will you not call on me?” For a girl with chronically weak lungs, Ennis had a talent for prattling on about nothing for bells on end. Edda knew better than to dig much at the earlier parts of her spiel. “I’m sorry, Ennis,” Edda said, not at all meaning it. “I’ve been keeping to myself. I do like some space to collect my thoughts.” Ennis scoffed and made a face. She was very expressive, although how much of it was an act, Edda did not know. “You’ve had time alone to collect your thoughts for almost twenty cycles now. Don’t tell me your pretend adventure with the rabble outside has jumbled your mind so terribly.” Edda made sure to not show reaction to Ennis’ apparent bait, but she could feel tenseness in her own jaw before she spoke. “It would be difficult to explain.” Vagueness was the fastest route to annoying Ennis, although Edda had no desire to quarrel with her. “You were not gone for that long. It wouldn’t be very difficult, I just think you don’t want to tell me about it at all. At least father gave me some measure of an idea. An incident with bird-like fellows and your subsequent adventures with your pet Hellsguard, yes?”     “That is a rather concise way of putting it.” “Let’s not sweat the details, dearest. I can imagine hearing everything would bore me straight to tears. You’re not that interesting, although you’ve seemed to pick up a few quirks from life in the gutter.” Edda had to wonder if Ennis truly saw things in such extremes. If it wasn’t the lavish and clean interior of a manor, was everything else the dirty, shady alleyways of Pearl Lane? There was little point in asking, because Ennis would deny it, or not answer at all. She was intelligent with both books and people, but her views of the world were painted with a thin sheen of ignorance. The same, of course, could be said about Edda, despite her desire to shed this fact. “I have, perhaps,” Edda agreed in an attempt to pacify her. “You seem largely the same since last we spoke, however. Are you still terrorizing the gardeners?” Ennis wrinkles her nose at the accusation. “Don’t be silly. Father hired a whole new batch of them from that little colony to the south, but I’m sure those unruly ex-pirates only have experience trimming heads from necks, not the branches off bushes. I tried only once to give them constructive criticism-“ Edda could feel pangs of sympathy. “-But to little avail. I’ve bothered father to hire some field hands from Gridania instead – no doubt they’ll set things to rights. He won’t listen now, but I’ll wear him down eventually.” “I’m sure you will…” It was Ennis’ greatest talent, after all. “You never go to the gardens though, so why let it bother you so much?” “I can see them from my window,” Ennis replied, as if it were the most obvious answer. “Don’t try and say I’m out of my element, because you know full well I could say the very same to you. Living in a house full of killers, drunks and whores? I know mother planted the idea in your head, but could you have not picked a better location?” Edda blinked at the apparent types of people living at The Still Shore, if that was indeed what Ennis was referring to. “I don’t recall ever encountering those types while I stayed there. Perhaps you are mistaken.” “Oh, yes, I’m sure the official Maelstrom record for them is very flattering. But I did my research when father had those officers over for dinner one moon past, and from what I’ve heard some rather colorful types live under that roof. I know you had two of your retainers with you, and your Hellsguard, but I was truly worried for your well-being there.” The conversation had begun to wear on Edda at this point, her expression sobering at Ennis’ thinly-veiled accusations, though they were not directed at her. It was true that Edda had always been quite the odd one out, but she had never felt outright unwanted, let alone unsafe. “They must have been some rather embellished stories, then. I can assure you nothing was out of sorts there.” This was of course, entirely false. There never seemed to be a shortage of incidents or strange fellows skulking about the house, from the dusty miqo’te that spoke in riddles to the ever aggravating three-eyed freak. “Or are you simply curious, Ennis? If you want to know so badly, all you had to do was ask.” “Ridiculous. Curious? Me?” Ennis scowled and clicked her tongue. “You must think yourself above me even more so now, now that you’ve been outside – as if that was some great accomplishment to begin with. Do you intend to lord it over me?  Try and regale me with tales of what I’m missing?” It was no secret that Ennis harbored immense disdain for the outdoors, a trait in which Edda played no small part. Having been confined to the house due to her health for most of her life, Ennis grew to despise the very thought of going outside. She had not always felt this way, and perhaps forced herself to in order to bury the self-pity she had for her own situation. It was not something Edda could hold against her, knowing that she herself could have ended up with the very same attitude. “I have no intention to do any of that, Ennis. I do not regret my decision to leave, however, and I’m glad I did. It was a good experience.” Ennis went from looking annoyed to placid very quickly. “What a lukewarm thing to say. So have you resigned yourself to your fate here now? You seem very passive.” Edda looked to the ground for a moment, and frowned. “…I would still like to leave,” she begins. “I will hope that father can see past his own anger and prejudices and change his mind.” It was not an easy thing to admit, nor something she would like to, but lying to Ennis was futile. “He’s forbidden you from sending any letters, has he not? At least I heard a few retainers whispering about it. Rather iron-fisted of him, no? But you know how stubborn he is – I doubt he’ll change his mind. So what, you intend to just sit around the house long enough, hoping your fairytale friends notice and seek you out?” Edda’s frown deepened at this. ‘Friends’ was not a word Edda was sure she could use. If she were prompted she may say as such, but having lived in isolation for much of her life, the word carried a different weight to her than it did to the average person. She had acted in a manner that was friendly, at least how she had been taught to do so. But that was never enough, and for all she knew, she had gone about it all wrong. It would be presumptuous of Edda to believe anyone would seek her out, even if the notion of it made her heart sink in longing. She thought of Iron, and those that she might dare to think would call her a friend, and felt like crying. “…I hope that this is something that will be resolved, given time.” Edda choose her words carefully and looked Ennis dead in the eye. There was a pregnant pause in the conversation, a rarity with Ennis. Her eyes darted around the room for a moment, before she settled at staring between Edda’s collarbones. “You are so horribly boring sometimes.” She looked up at Edda almost cautiously, before her usual smile appeared on her face. “Exactly as I expected. I’m sure you like to think differently, but you are still the selfsame sister I know and love. You can still read and write unlike the unwashed masses, your hair is still impeccable and your breasts are still distracting. Can you still play? Oh, you must play with me sister, it’s been too long.” Ennis motioned to the instruments in the room, the largest collection of them in the second parlor. There was a piano, a harpsichord, a harp, a cello, and two violins alongside an assortment of flutes in a large closet in the corner. There was scarcely room for any furniture, and the room had fallen into disuse after a third harpsichord was lifted to the study near Ennis’ room and Edda had completed her lessons. Still, the room was kept in impeccable shape and the instruments were well cared for. Ennis walked over to the harpsichord excitedly and pointed at the piano, looking between it and Edda with pretend vigor. “I don’t,” Edda started. “I’m not really in the mood.” Ennis was already sitting at this point, and gave Edda a rather befuddled look. “Who said anything about the mood? It’s only music.” As if anyone could argue with that. Edda sighed and took a seat in front of the piano. She lifted the fallboard and looked over to Ennis. The two only knew one duet. Ennis had not desired to learn more than one, her passion for music not falling beyond the realm of putting on a show for guests. She had always been talented at the keyboard, but it was Edda’s initial love for music that caused Ennis not care for it as deeply as she might have. She still practiced the bare minimum, but it was just another game for her. Ennis met Edda’s gaze and winked – or at least attempted to – and turned back to the keys in front of her. Edda rolled her eyes, and started to play. [youtube]HOCQjR3gXDY[/youtube] Ennis finished the duet with a flourish, before clapping wildly. “Oh, excellent, you’re just as good as I remember!” She continued clapping, to the point where it felt patronizing. Edda stood and lowered the fallboard back over the keys. Ennis rose to meet her, and took Edda’s hands in her own. “Shall we have some tea and cakes on the back veranda?” That was as far as Ennis was willing to go outside. “I’m still feeling a bit peckish after such a boring breakfast. I feel as if we have a lot to catch up on, you and I.” If she meant it, it would be quite the difference from her previous words. “Alright,” Edda agreed. She had no excuse prepared, and spending time with Ennis for the next few bells would prepare her for dinner with the Sidneys. Ennis smiled brightly, and for a second Edda felt like smiling back. Edda had not seen a real smile on Ennis’ face for a very long time, even before the Calamity. The moment passed, and Edda allowed Ennis to drag her to the garden nestled between the two wings of the house. (To be... Continued?)

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A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Edda - 12-08-2014, 08:56 AM RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Unnamed Mercenary - 12-08-2014, 02:02 PM RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Edda - 12-11-2014, 04:06 AM RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Unnamed Mercenary - 12-11-2014, 11:41 AM RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Edda - 04-09-2015, 04:32 AM RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] - by Edda - 04-13-2015, 08:36 PM

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