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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 RE: A Cold Home [Closed][OOC comments welcome] | #3 12-11-2014, 04:06 AM ((Er, I wrote more... Christ, I've forgotten how mortifying this could be. Harsh feedback is still the best, please don't let the Garlean set the precedent.)) The main garden was a rather private area, cut off from prying eyes from the outside, however rare it was for strangers to get so close to the manor. A large fountain decorated the center of it, and the arrangements of plants never stayed the same for very long. The garden had seen varying levels of use throughout the many generations of Eglantines. Edda and her brother had spent time there often, but after his death she came to avoid it. Ennis and Eamon had no great love of it. Edda’s mother, Marian, spent the most time on it, ordering native flowers and shrubs from Gridania to be planted within, so that it might remind her of home. Edda and Ennis entered the garden through the main study. The room bordered the garden, and let out onto a veranda through several triple hung windows. There were a few small garden tables and chairs that sat overlooking the garden, sitting comfortably under the shade of the porch roof. The sun was higher in the sky now, but the morning air was cooled by the breeze from the Western Indigo Deep. Ennis motioned to her retainer Lauda, who always kept within earshot of Ennis should anything happen to her. She disappeared back into the study to make for the kitchens, and the two sisters took a seat at one of the tables. There were still a few workers in the gardens, and Edda and Ennis watched them work in silence for a short while. “See what I mean?” Ennis leaned in slightly to whisper. She nodded to an uncharacteristically short Sea Wolf, who seemed to be struggling with the thorns on a large bush. Lauda returned with a tray of tea and petit fours. “I’m not sure you could do any better, Ennis,” Edda remarked dryly. “Oh, that isn’t the point. It’s not my job to tend to the garden. But if I were being paid to do so, I would hope to do a good job.” Edda bit into a petit four and decided not to pursue the subject at hand. A wise decision apparently, as Ennis smiled at Edda as she added sugar to her tea. “So,” Ennis continued. “Why not tell me about some of those commoners you met?” “I thought you said you weren’t interested. What were the words you used? ‘Bore me to tears,’ or something along those lines?” “I didn’t say that!” Ennis feigned an offended look. “I’m merely wondering how you managed to get along with the sort of rabble that are out there, that’s all. I find it shocking that anyone had the patience to withstand your company for any extended period of time. I hear those adventurer types can be as quick to kill you as they are to even look at you.” “You will find such stories to be greatly exaggerated.” Edda finished off a second petit four without even realizing it, and gave Ennis a disapproving look. “I know you’re not the type to believe everything you hear. Do try not to get so caught up in your own fantasies.” Ennis glared at Edda over her cup of tea, and downed some of it rather quickly. It was unwise of her to drink so fast, but Edda held her tongue. “Prove me wrong, then.” Edda looked out to the garden and inhaled to speak before Ennis interrupted her. “And not about that Hellsguard of yours, please. I’ve heard enough deriding statements from father to last me a lifetime.” It would seem Ennis’ proclivity for reading the thoughts of others had increased, and Edda furrowed her brows in frustration. Where to start? “Well, there was the mercenary woman who loved to dye her hair and could read and write, though it’s been some time since I last saw her. There was the hat-loving bard with rather alarming aim, the Duskwight fellow who sold blank books for whatever cause, and the young lalafell from The Still Shore who charmed me into buying her an assortment of cakes from the Bismarck...” Ennis frowned at the brief descriptions, and shot Edda a distrustful glare. “Are you sure you’re not making this up? I don’t believe such characters could all gather together and manage to get along at all. Do they even have names?” It was of little doubt that the idea of a mercenary being literate or a Duskwight knowing what a book even looked like was incomprehensible to Ennis. It was a tad dramatic, but Edda sighed in exasperation. “Of course they have names, Ennis. Don’t be ridiculous. And no, I’m not making this up – they are but a few examples. And if anything, they were rather tame compared to that band of murderers that turned to black ooze and managed to come back from being killed.” “Yes, yes, father told me all about that. Maybe not all of it, but enough to know something nefarious was at play. Rather silly of you, involving yourself in something so dangerous.” Edda shifted in her seat, the discomfort of the memory not one she would like to dwell on. “It was not voluntary.” In what appeared to be a rare act of kindness, Ennis did not press the subject. “Was there anyone else interesting?” After taking a moment to think and dwell in self-doubt, Edda began to speak slowly. “…You know of the Rochesters, rights?” Ennis scowled for a moment. “The merchant family from Ul’dah?” “Yes, the very same. I met their daughter.” “The one that was kidnapped?” Ennis looked utterly bewildered. “Yes. Well, that was the story, and I’m not quite sure it’s true.” A pause. “I’m still not entirely sure what the actual story was, but yes, I met her.” “Hmph.” Ennis leaned back in her chair and nibbled on a cake. “Well that must have been quite nice,” she said dryly. “A brief respite of nobility and grace in that dump of a city, I’m sure.” “It managed to grow on me,” Edda said, and it was the truth. The weather in Thanalan was still a point of contention for her, but once the charms of the city came out of the woodwork, they were not lost on her. “Oh, I’m sure,” Ennis drawled. Her voice dripped with sarcasm and a sly smile blossomed on her face. Choosing to ignore the sudden change in Ennis’ manner, Edda busied herself with the food on the table. The two sat in silence for a while, snacking on the remaining sweets and finishing their tea. The temperature had begun to warm, and though it was not very far from Mist, the smell of the air in Summerford was entirely different. It had been some time since Edda had sat and enjoyed the garden, not since before the death of her elder brother. The two had spent time here frequently. The garden had been much more magnificent during that time – wisteria vines wrapped around the edge of the veranda, and trumpet vine on the pillars that supported them. Rows of carnations and sweet briar encircled the fountain with towering rose bushes in every color imaginable that enclosed the pathways within. It was a funny thing, to feel nostalgia for a sight that was so familiar and always close at hand. And though she still longed to explore the world that had only just been open to her, Edda felt at peace here, knowing that even if she never truly belonged anywhere else, she would always have this place. Enough time had passed that the workers in the garden finished, and left to tend to the shrubs and plants on the rest of the grounds. Ennis coughed lightly and sat upright, the same sly grin returning to her face. “So, tell me dear sister,” she began. “Aside from the encounters you mention, did you have any special encounters whilst you stayed in Ul’dah?” Ennis knew her sister well enough to know the meaning would be lost on her. “What do you mean?” Edda frowned. “I had just told you, did I not? Surely you don’t mean to hear all of them.” “Oh.” Ennis’ expression quickly soured, and she sighed. “Did you really not learn a thing while you were there? Surely you cannot be so dense as all that.” “What are you talking about, Ennis?” “I’m asking if you enjoyed the primal company of men – or women, you know I’m not one to spill secrets or mete out judgments – when you were abroad?” Were it not for Ennis’ use of the word ‘primal,’ the meaning behind her words might have still been lost on Edda. But it was able to suffice, and a sharp hue of red colored her cheeks. She looked a mix between angry and scandalized, as if the very idea was as condemning as the action. “Of course not!” Edda put a hand to her chest, her heart beating wildly at the abruptness of Ennis’ question. “Hm, so, still utterly kissless, are you? What a shame.” Edda glared, her face still red. “Oh, because you aren’t?” “At least I have an excuse.” She paused. “…Are you sure? At least not a little?” “Yes!” Edda had begun to cool off, but her face was still an attractive shade of pink. “What a thing to ask… What brought that on?” “Curiosity,” Ennis said and shrugged. There seemed to be more at hand than she was letting on. “It is a bit surprising, though. Quite unlike you.” Edda had the grace to look offended, even though she knew Ennis was pulling at strings to get a rise out of her. “If anything, I’d say it would be unlike me to do otherwise. Surely you know me better than that.” “Regrettably,” Ennis remarked. “That is of course not to say that you sought it out, but… even your dreadful lack of self-awareness couldn’t protect you from the depravity of men, especially the types to be found in Ul’dah. And I won’t believe you if you insist you didn’t attract any sort of attention like that.” “But I didn’t,” Edda insisted, and it was true. “Of course not.” Ennis rolled her eyes. “Somehow I’m not quite sure you’re telling the truth. Even if you dressed yourself in rags, a young pretty thing such as yourself might still be found attractive. In fact, you could even wear a mask.” Her eyes drifted towards Edda’s chest. “Such useless sacks of fat speak loud enough to overpower whatever myriad of flaws you may possess, at least to those looking only for fun.” “Don’t tease me, Ennis, it’s unbecoming of you. In any case, I was not,” Edda frowned and blushed once more, and her expression grew quite cross. “…Propositioned. And even if I were, would it matter? I’d have no part in such things.” “Yes, yes, ever the saint. But you’ve been trying to learn just a little, have you not? About that wondrous world between the sheets, as they say. No doubt you’re old enough to learn, I can’t blame you.” Edda looked utterly confused. “What are you saying?” “Oh, don’t play dumb. Really, there’s no harm in it!” Ennis laughed softly, and smiled a suspiciously knowing smile. “I’ve no time to play mind games with you.” “Don’t be like that, darling,” Ennis said through fits of laughter, and waved Lauda over. She whispered something into her retainer’s ear, who promptly scurried off into the house. “It’s alright; I’ll help you to the very best of my abilities. It’s precious to see you trying so hard, but I do think you’re going about it all the wrong way.” Knowing that silent treatment or lashing out had no effect on her, Edda did her best to stare placidly at Ennis from across the table. She waited for Ennis’ laughter to subside before speaking to her. “It must be very exciting for you,” she said. It was a vague remark, the kind Ennis hated. “Believe me, it is.” It was then Lauda returned through a window, and presented Ennis with a small book. Edda recognized it instantaneously, and her heart sank. She watched as Ennis accepted the book, the cold sensation of dread and sadness spreading from her sternum to fill her lungs and sit in her belly. It was the book of poetry Natalie had bequeathed her before her sudden passing. Edda had not yet opened it, the lingering guilt of her death stopping her from doing so. However selfish of her it was to blame herself, there was a small degree of truth in her fault – one she would never allow herself to forget. “I took the liberty of going through your luggage,” Ennis began. She flipped through the pages of the book idly, glancing between it and Edda. “And imagine my surprise to find something so bawdy in your belongings. I had thought it some sort of mistake at first; it was so uncharacteristic of you. Perhaps I was mistaken though, hm?” Edda’s throat was dry. Watching her sister page through it so flippantly filled her with muted anger, and Edda clenched her fists in her lap. “And how uncharacteristic of you to sift through my belongings without my permission. I’ve met mercenaries that had better manners.” “Well, if it wasn’t in your room, I’d say it’s completely fair of me. And what else is there to do here, truly?” Ennis smiled and closed the book. “But enough of that, have you learned anything insightful from here?” Edda clenched her teeth before speaking. “I have yet to read it.” “Of course you haven’t,” Ennis said. She was clearly unconvinced. “Which poem is your favorite? I haven’t finished it yet, but there was one that stood out…” Ennis turned in her seat to rest the book on the table, and began slowly leafing through the pages. Edda watched in perfect silence, her knuckles white. “Ah, here it is.” Ennis cleared her throat dramatically and began to read: “There once was a sailor from Aleport, Whose manhood was just ever so short, But milk him all night, And do it just right, And the Seaman could fill half a quart!” Ennis laughed and Edda flushed heavily, out of both embarrassment and anger. After her laughter subsided, Ennis continued to browse the book. “And there was another one, a sonnet on the forbidden passion between a Sea Wolf and Dunesfolk…” She giggled to herself, and that was enough. Edda reached across the table and snatched the book right out of her sister’s hands. She set the book in her lap and smoothed over the cover absently. “I think that’s enough,” Edda said coolly. Even with the book back in her possession, it was not enough to quell the rising irritation she felt. Even if she had tried, Ennis’ strength was not enough to stop Edda to taking the book from her. Ennis sighed and leaned back in her chair. “You’re no fun. Still, I didn’t expect you to be reading such tripe. Or have your tastes always been so banal?” “It is not mine.” A half-truth. “Which explains why it was with your luggage.” “It was a gift.” “They must have not known you very well, to get you something like that. Do you even know what ‘manhood’ means? Still, I’d love to contact whoever decided to give you this, of all things. They must been quite a piece of work.” “I’m afraid they passed away.” Edda spoke calmly, though she felt anything but. “Pity,” Ennis said. “Seems to be the common story over on the mainland. What happened, bar fight gone south? Mugged? The clap?” “It is unseemly to speak ill of the dead, Ennis.” Edda frowned at her sister and gripped the book tightly. Her tone was even and measured, but any warmth it might have previously had was gone. Ennis looked bewildered for a moment and sputtered, before giving Edda an incredulous look. “Bold words, coming from you.” “Do not start with that,” Edda warned. It was too late, however, and Ennis gave a nasty sneer. “Always with the high and mighty act. You’re just so flawless, aren’t you? But I’ll hear no lectures about respect for the dead, not from you.” “Stop it, Ennis.” “Oh, what? Still pretending to mourn the loss of our dearest brother, even after you sent him to his death?” The two were past the point of civility at this point. “You know that was not the way of things, and yet you still persist! If you must despise me, then do so, but pinning the blame on others will do nothing to assuage you.” Edda rose from her seat, holding the book with one hand at her side. “Running away, are you? You never were one for seeing the truth.” Ennis looked up at her from her seat. Aside from the nasty expression on her face, she otherwise appeared calm. “I don’t have the patience to deal with you when you are like this.” Edda stared down at her sister with a cold look. “You are speaking out of place. I suggest you return to your room.” “So now you decide to act as the proper heir and throw your weight around? Don’t make me laugh. All the fake tears you cried could never mask the fact that you never wanted this.” Edda’s nostrils flared and she looked away sharply. “Lauda,” she called out. “Please escort my sister back to her room. She’s had enough excitement for one sun.” The retainer hurried over to Ennis’ side to help her up. She swatted Lauda’s hands away and stood on her own, glaring at Edda all the while. “Don’t run away from it. Don’t pretend it isn’t true.” Edda turned to look at Ennis. Her accusations were harsh but Edda could not deny the sliver of truth therein. Ennis had loved their brother a great deal, and perhaps she was not wrong in her way of dealing with her grief. Yet the hate that seethed from her sister now sat within Edda’s heart like a glacier. Confronted with the reality of it, Edda wanted to scream until there was no more breath in her lungs. But Edda’s face remained stony and composed – a side effect of many years of training. “You are not the only one,” Edda began, “that grieves for him.” She spoke slowly, but could not fully mask the wavering of her voice. Ennis’ face grew even darker as Lauda stood nervously behind her. “Ha! Don’t make me laugh. You may have grieved for him, but we both know what you truly lost that night was your only ticket out of here.” Edda did not hesitate before she reached out and slapped her sister. There was nothing to be said. She brushed past the two to make her way back to her room and ignored the stinging sensation behind her eyes. ((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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