Of Trolls and Homecomings Day 3

From Reydala

Revision as of 23:27, 17 May 2011

Of Trolls and Homecomings Day 3

Timeline: 26th of Chiarore

Scene 1: Morning After

Early morning in Leyandra had always been a beautiful sight. The way the sun rose slowly in the sky and shone only a small amount light down upon the world below; just enough to give everything a slight orange glow. It was a sight that Aelthir had in the past described up and down as an experience that everyone needed to experience at least once in their lives. Unfortunately, the beauty of the trees and the grass below the paladin was the last thing in his mind right now.

No, the striking question in the paladin’s mind as he left the bathhouse both cleansed and refreshed, all of his morning rituals complete (including tailoring); was not where he awoke, but how he awoke. Much like a drunkard, discarded in an alleyway, the paladin woke upon the rooftop patio surrounded by empty bottles of ale. Albeit a first in his books, the real issue however was that he did not remember drinking them. In fact, his memories of the night previous were far different than the situation had suggested. As the story told itself in his mind, he recalled watching the city of Allrevan, lit up in a wondrous as it prepared for the upcoming Baequi’via Ball, and annual city festival which began the day after the ball. He recalled Lady Ansr’onna challenge him to armed combat, which he had no choice but to accept. He bled, he burned, but he fought. Someone came out, and told the pair to quit fighting and that’s where the memories stopped.

As the paladin crossed the path toward the manor, he glanced up toward the sun. He estimated it to be around seven in the morning, and thus he sighed in relief. There was plenty of time before the Baequi’via ball tonight; he had to suit everyone up this afternoon and make a couple final adjustments on their attire. Oh, and perhaps telling his comrades about the ball might be important too. He wasn’t sure if he had time to teach them how to basically dance, but he figured no one would complain, lest they get punched out by the giant one. As he walked into the manor through the smaller dining room entrance, used for small meals mainly, he was greeted by the faces of his sister and Katrin who were talking about something in a hushed manner. “Good morning ladies.”

“Ah, good morning, Aelthiria!” Katrin said happily as she motioned for the paladin to sit down beside her. The smirk on her face however was enough to have Aelthir pause for a moment and consider the situation. His sister, and the one said sister thought was married to him, alone in a room, talking. Even though it was the breakfast room; yesterday they were all together, eating and conversing. However, so as to not act too suspicious, he moved to sit beside Katrin and realized there were no plates, as if this morning’s breakfast had not been served yet.

“So yes, dear sister-in-law just finished telling me about how you two ended up together.” Syllae sighed blissfully, as if she had just been told a fairy tale of a knight and his princess. Although, that begged the question of just what had been said, as well as the question he had to ask. “So, is it true?” She asked him suddenly.

“No, it isn’t.” Aelthir said as he shook his head, only to be smacked behind the head by Katrin. “H-Hey, what was that for!”

“You don’t have to be so embarrassed by the story! I mean, seriously. I like the story, and don’t you think your sister is old enough to know such things!? She can’t be coddled forever; she is the head of our family!” Katrin huffed up and crossed her arms. She certainly knew how to act.

Aelthir opened his mouth to say something, and was quickly silenced by the hand of one Syllae to Aelthir’s cheek. “How dare you, Aelthir Baequi’via! You have a wife who loves you, and you sit here and deny the truths that she holds so dear in her heart?!” Syllae glared at Aelthir and slapped him for a second time across the opposite cheek. “And that one was for having a libido the size of Allrevan. You’re a paladin, you should have known self control. She told you that she wasn’t ready to have children yet!”

A third slap and Aelthir’s neck twisted to the right. “That is for leaving your wife to sleep alone last night, while you were passed out on the roof from too many drinks at dinner!” Syllae hissed out before she sat back down. “I should force you back into a school for etiquette. It seems all your time gallivanting around the world has made you forget all your manners!”

Aelthir grumbled under his breath and stood up. “You’re right. My apologies.” He spoke in a sharp tone as he walked to the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go prepare for the ball tonight. Katrin, I expect I’ll see you later for your fitting and adjustment.” He left the room at that. There was still a chance he was being tricked by the duo, as had been such a theme these past few days. His expression held some annoyance and some confusion.

Through various hallways he walked until he saw Vidar and Alis outside with their blades clashing in form, a dance of their own. Also outside was Fal, whom seemed to be acting as an impromptu referee at this moment. The paladin stopped and watched for a moment, as if mesmerized by movements of the two combatants. “Such a difference in size, and yet they wield the same size of blade as scholars hold books and magicians hold wands.” He murmured and stepped outside through the nearest door.

“Yo! Aelthir!” Fal called out as he glanced over to the now approaching paladin. “How’s the hangover treating you?” he called again as Aelthir raised an eyebrow. Wait, Fal too? No, it cannot be. Maybe he heard the dragonborn wrong.

"I am as fit as a fiddle this morning, thank you." Aelthir spoke as he brought his fist to his chest in a form of respect and stopped beside his comrade to watch the continuing combat.

“Really? Damn, man. With how much booze you had, I’m surprised you’re even walking this early, and you’re telling me you don’t even have a hangover? God damn, I wish I had your constitution.” Fal scratched his head.

No, the paladin had heard him right. “I believe you are mistaken. Last evening, I did not drink, I was duelling at midnight. Although, you could call it a sword dance, if you would so prefer.” Aelthir corrected Fal as he tried to remember everything that happened.

“No, dude, you were hammered. No amount of denying it is going to change that and denying the truth is just uncool, bro.” Fal said as Aelthir listened to the clashing metal of the two blades. The way Alis and Vidar were parrying another’s moves perfectly was a sight to behold, a sight that Aelthir could not describe in words at the moment as he watched on. He did, however register Fal’s words and frowned.

“I see… but I recall fighting, and being electrocuted, twice; how can one simulate those physical feelings while drunk!?” Aelthir argued desperately, as if he was holding onto a last thread of hope.

“Bro, haven’t you ever had fantasy dreams?” Fal asked as he smirked. “Dreams of holding onto and caressing a beautiful babe and…” he stopped talking as Aelthir turned red and shot him a glare. “Well, it’s like that. All feelings can be simulated in a dream, if your body knows what that feels like.” Aelthir’s face was blank, already broken in the early morning. One would think he’d have some sort of natural defense by now against this sort of thing, but alas, it was not to be.

“I… I see.” Aelthir coughed and looked away after what seemed like an hour. “And whether I’ve had those sorts of dreams or not is none of your concern, Sir Fal.”

“Of course not, and I’d sooner not know. That sort of thing is just uncool to talk about. I was just giving an example.” Fal shrugged lightly.

“I don’t see what’s to be so worried about, Aelthir. It’s just one night. It’s not like you drink every night and get that plastered, every night. If you did, then we would have a problem.” Vidar spoke up as he and Alis stopped fighting, and the two turned toward the elf.

All that came from Alis was the familiar sound of munching. Aelthir didn’t know what to believe anymore. No matter what they said, he still had this feeling that things weren’t as they were saying and he should doubt them. However, what were the chances everyone was trying to trick him; even Syllae herself!? Well, honestly, fairly high, he figured, but still. All this confused him and he was sure his expression was one of great silliness. One which would make lesser men and women laugh and give away their lie, if it was a lie at least. Oh, he didn’t know anymore. “A-Ah… but I am certain this was not what happened…” he paused and took a deep breath. He shook his head a couple times and then looked to them. “There is a ball tonight, by the way and you all are going. Don’t go too far today, I will need to see each and every one of you for an adjustment on your clothing.”

“You're just telling us about this now?” Fal asked and then looked at Aelthir. “Bro, that's just uncool.”

“Be glad I gave you this much warning. I thought about just grabbing you throughout the day and telling you as I went along. However, I suspect today will be long and busy.” Aelthir spoke, his expression was serious, but his tone gave away his unfaltering confusion. He bit his lip after and then just left as his mind struggled with this. Another moment passed before he shook his head and retreated back inside with the words "I am never drinking again. Dear goddess, I am never drinking again." This was going to be a long day for the paladin.

“I wonder if we’ve gone too far.” Fal said, once Aelthir was back inside.

“He’ll be fine.” Vidar reassured before he pulled out his blade once more, ready for another round of sparring. Alis took a moment to munch a little quicker before she took out her weapon and prepared for the next round as well.

Scene 2: The Family of my Family is my Enemy

It was about ten in the morning when Aelthir and the hired help for the manor were finishing up with the décor for the foyer. As it was the annual Baequi’via ball, normal levels of fabulous were just not enough. A white banner with the Baequi’via crest hung beside a gold banner with the Allrevan coat of arms. All the drapes were replaced with gold coloured silk ones instead of the normal satin. Flowers were also laid around the room for an extra ambiance. Aelthir by now was dressed in a special tailor’s attire. He wore a white silk shirt, with a measuring tape around his neck almost like a scarf, and black silk pants, held up by a black belt. Upon his left sleeve, various sewing needles had been pushed through and tied on. Upon his belt were three gold cases which had different coloured spools of thread inside, as well as more needles.

When Ansr’onna came downstairs for the day, Aelthir inquired about their battle and even she denied that they had fought. At that point, Aelthir just gave up and went about with decorating and the mantra ‘I’m never drinking again’ was repeated many a time over.

“Thank you, Lord Aelthir.” The head butler spoke as he offered his hand to the paladin. This was the same butler who a few short days ago had been glaring daggers at him. “And I’d like to apologize for my behaviour when you arrived. It was not right of me.”

“There’s no need to call me as a Lord. I’m still technically disbarred from the family, so I am nothing more but a travelling paladin. Also, think nothing of the other day. I can see how much trouble you’ve been caused by my arrival. Furthermore, the other day is in the past; let us look to tonight, a night of celebration!” He smiled and shook the butler’s hand.

“Ah, thank you Lord… I mean Aelthir.” The butler smirked back and let go of Aelthir’s hand. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to go perform other duties.” The butler bowed lightly and left the room. Aelthir had things to do as well, but he decided to take a moment to admire the work that he and the workers of the house had managed to complete so efficiently and beautifully. It was almost enough to make his heart go aflutter.

“Ah, servant boy!” a voice spoke from behind him. “We could use some assistance with our luggage!” the voice continued, and Aelthir couldn’t help but think the voice sounded familiar. “Hey! Servant boy, I’m talking to you!”

Aelthir turned around and looked at the young man in front of him. He was alone for the moment, but the luggage behind him suggested that there were at least three others with him. Aelthir knew the young man upon sight; his first cousin, likely his wife, and his aunt and uncle were the others who had come with him. “Ah, I’m sorry Feranes. I’m not with the servants, but if you’ll just wait, I’ll go get one on my way to my work.” Aelthir apologized to the boy and laughed lightly.

The boy simply smirked and dropped his luggage at Aelthir’s feet. “You’re not with the servants? Well, you certainly look like you do. Finally done gallivanting around the world, and decided to come beg for your old life back, have you? You’re lucky that it’s your sister who’s the head of the family and not I. I would have you arrested for even returning here, and I am not the only one who feels that way. If you ever want to get into the good books of the rest of the family, I suggest that you shut your mouth and do as we true Baequi’via say.” The elf said before he spat at Aelthir’s face.

Aelthir merely wiped his cheek off with his hand and took a deep breath. He didn’t say a word. “How pathetic, you know what I say is true, so you do not challenge my words. What a shame to see the so-called great Aelthir reduced to this.” Feranes continued as he swung his fist at Aelthir’s face. Aelthir took the punch right to the left eye and fell back onto the floor. The paladin frowned as he felt the skin around his eye as it already began to swell.

“Quit trying to provoke me, Feranes. You know I will not strike back.” Aelthir answered. “I have no quarrel against you. Just because even though I left, my sister likes me as a person more than she’ll ever like you, is not a reason to try and lower me to retaliate.” The paladin quipped as he continued to sit upon the floor.

“Quit acting better than me.” Feranes spat once more at Aelthir. “You are a coward. You couldn’t handle being the heir to the family, so you willingly broke the rules so you could escape this fate and leave it to your poor sister.”

“You’re wrong.” Aelthir stood up and stared Feranes in the eye. “Your view is flawed to believe only what you want to believe.” He spoke, only to receive another punch to the same eye and send him back to the floor. A moment after, the head butler returned into the room, ready to carry luggage when he saw Aelthir upon the ground.

“Ah! Aelthir, are you alright!?” the butler asked immediately as he moved to Aelthir’s side to help him up and Feranes simply watched.

“I’m fine, sir Dreraan.” Aelthir answered as he took the butler’s hand and stood up. “I tripped and landed face first on the floor. Feranes was just seeing if I was alright. I’d just gotten onto my back.

“Ah, very well sir. If you insist.” The butler Dreraan spoke as he let go of the now standing paladin and moved to Feranes’ luggage. A moment later and with a final glare, Feranes left the room.

Aelthir leaned against a pillar and covered his left eye with his left hand. He needed to get to his room and do something. Get an eye patch or something, at least until he could ask Katrin to heal the swelling. However, first he needed to relax a moment.

Other branch families entered the foyer soon after. One by one they saw Aelthir, stared him down in shock, some with disgust, and then just ignored his very existence. Aelthir simply watched quietly for a moment as this went on. Oh, how he wished to call them all out, but decided that discretion was the better part of valour, and simply sauntered off.

Scene 3: I'm Sorry Alis

One in the afternoon and Aelthir had just put the final touches on the group’s clothes, sans his own. After all, he never made his own clothes. His clothes looked a little dishevelled as needles were removed and replaced in the sleeve as the paladin had worked; he felt he worked a little slower than normal; however he did only have one eye to see out of presently. Across his swollen left eye was a white eye patch, which just barely covered the bruising, and if Aelthir could help it, it would stay that way.

He’d sent one of the servants to find any of his comrades and bring them to Aelthir. Much work still had to be done, after all. As if on cue, the door opened and a person quietly shuffled in. “Good afternoon, Lady Alis.” Aelthir said as he turned to face the cloaked girl.

“Aelthir, we need to talk.” The girl lowered her hood and stared at him with a serious expression.

“If you insist” he answered her and turned to the rack. He removed a gown and gently carried it to her. “Go change into your ballroom attire and then we’ll talk.”

The girl quirked an eyebrow and looked at the dress. “I refuse to wear that” was Alis’ only response.

“Why not?” Aelthir questioned as he stared at Alis. “I’m sure it will look good on you.”

“I don’t do gowns.” Alis said as she stared at the paladin who was visibly shorter than her at this time. He shook his head and moved to place the gown on the hanger once again. “And you will listen to what I have to say regardless. This needs to stop, Aelthir.”

“What, ever do you mean?” Aelthir asked as he raised an eyebrow.

“You’ve been just letting people get the better of you for days without complaint. I saw you this morning, you know.” Aelthir paused in his walking and just looked at her. Had she seen him get punched? He certainly hoped not at the least, for his cousin's sake. “I watched Syllae slap you for things that were untrue. I couldn’t believe how you just sat there and took it.” Aelthir sighed in relief now, but really. “It was pretty sad to watch. I see how it annoys you, and yet you continue to let it be!”

Aelthir walked back to her and stared at her now. His voice remained calm as he spoke “I thank you for your concern, however speak of yourself. You’ve allowed Syllae to believe that you are a man since we arrived. I see how it annoys you as well, Sir Alis. Why have you not spoken up either?”

“That is something entirely different, Aelthiria!” Alis said as she frowned. “This is your home, and she is your sister! You should have said something long before now!”

“It isn’t any different. This house has not been my home in thirty years. You could have easily said something to Syllae.” Aelthir sighed lightly.

“This still has nothing to do with this conversation! You need to man up, Aelthiria!” She quipped and glared at him now.

“This still has everything to do with the conversation! You need to man down, Sir Alis!” He retorted and matched her glare. “Lest you be a man in Syllae’s eyes forever!”

The pair stared each other down in silence. “Fine, I’ll wear the stupid gown.” She conceded and Aelthir’s expression lit up. “However, only if you start acting like a man and stand up to Syllae” she added and Aelthir sighed lightly.

“Yes, yes. I will speak to Syllae.” Aelthir sighed once more and brought her the dress. “Now change.” He spoke as he handed it to her gently.

As Alis moved to the change room, Aelthir glanced to the door as it opened swiftly. “Dear brother, can we talk for a moment?” Syllae asked as she entered the room and walked to the paladin.

“Of course, dear sister” he smiled to her, obviously in a decent mood.

“Well, you see…” she started as the changing room door opened and out walked Alis, wearing a white ballroom gown which accentuated the few curves the woman did have. “What the hell kind of practical joke is this!?” Syllae’s attention was definitely caught as she ran over to Alis. “What did my brother do to you!? A man of your stature should not be wearing a dress!” she turned and glared at Aelthir. “Why would you subject your poor stable boy to such… such embarrassing manners!?”

Aelthir and Alis both looked at Syllae as if she had two heads and an awkward silence filled the room. “Sister… Alis is not a man. I'm afraid you've been mistaken ever since we arrived” Aelthir finally spoke.

“Lies and deceit,” Syllae scoffed as she moved behind Alis. “I can prove it to you right now. First off,” Syllae’s hands moved to Alis’ chest and grabbed hold of it. “Women by his age at least have something that resembles a pair of breasts” Syllae started as Alis gave a blank stare to Aelthir. This was not happening to her, nope.

Next Syllae’s hands ran down Alis’ stomach. “Women do not have abdominal muscles. Sir Alis has a well defined six-pack for a young man. Something you yourself should look into obtaining for your wife’s pleasure.”

Syllae then removed her hands from Alis’ body and motioned to the hair. “Next, women have long hair. Men, outside of you like short hair. Alis, has short hair. Last but not least…” Syllae paused to cup Alis’ chin and turn the poor shocked avenger’s gaze toward her. “Women, often have soft features that make superficial men adore them. Men like Alis, on the other hand have a certain rugged handsomeness about them that I find very, very attractive.” Syllae said before she kissed Alis softly for a moment, almost as if Syllae had forgotten who was in the room. She then broke away with a blush and moved to the door. “Ah! Look at the time. Dear brother, please come to my office tonight once you are completed with your work. Sir Alis, save me a dance tonight!” Syllae coughed as she left the room.

“Aelthir…” Alis started as her senses came back to her and she glared at the paladin. “I am not going to the ball.” Aelthir just stared for a moment. Had all this happened in front of his eyes? Yes, yes it had. “Paladin, if you repeat this to anyone, I’ll make sure you live to regret it!” Alis said as she continued to glare.

“Ah yes. Of course Alis” the paladin said as he moved to his work table and stared at a white leather pouch for far too long. Alis raised an eyebrow and watched the paladin for a moment, whose shoulders had begun to shake almost uncontrollably. Aelthir finally picked up the pouch and moved over to Alis. He placed it in her hand and moved away once more as if he was trying ever so hard to not say something.

“I said I wasn’t going to the ball.” Alis said as she held onto the pouch and Aelthir looked back at her. It was at this point he couldn’t hold it in any longer and burst out laughing hysterically.

“Y-You’re definitely going” the paladin choked through his laugh. “And you’re dancing with Syllae too.” He clutched his stomach and doubled over as he continued to be unable to control his laughter. “Go get ready, I’ll see you tonight…” he paused to laugh more. “Or I’ll drag you there, kicking and screaming. I don’t give a damn. You’re going.”

At that point, Alis just left the paladin to laugh himself into a heart attack.