Meanwhile, within the Cottage...
The sunlight filtered through the cloudy glass windows—casting a warm, honeyed glow over the worn oak of the kitchen. It was a quaint space, rich with the scent of dried herbs, woodsmoke, and the faint, earthy comfort of garden greens.
Nanna had always loved this kitchen: its warmth, its clutter, its proximity to her garden. It was humble, but hers; her own private little sanctuary; her home and her hearth, shielding those within from the cold of the world outside. To her, every nick and every smudge was a memory of a meal shared, of one more winter survived.
Finished dicing the tomatoes, she took a moment to observe the girl happily working across the table. Claire was truly a delight to watch, her movements fluid and purposeful even as she busied herself with the salad greens. Such a graceful, vibrant spirit; the the young fae seemed to glow against the backdrop of the graying timber.
Nanna thought her the perfect match for the ever-stoic Lurian, thinking the boy desperately in need of a splash of color in his life. She smiled; the bright, lively Claire was more than enough to break up the monotony of long, tiring days, filled with naught but the dulling weight of duty.
"Sooo," Nanna said, her voice dropping into the conspiratorial, eager lilt she reserved only for the best of gossip. "What’s the word in the castle? Any whispers worth repeating?"
Claire, aware of what she was after, rolled her eyes and smirked. "Oh, just the usual. It's all petty jealousies and tedious rivalries as the girls who’ve already given up on Lurian squabble over the best of the new elven guards.”
“Oh?” Nanna looked up. “Any lookers amongst the recruits? The last batch were a little lacking; all weedy things, without a lick of muscle on their bones. Why, the poor boys looked half-withered,” she said, drawing a light, scandalized gasp from the girl.
“Nanna!” she said, aghast.
“What? Girl, I’m married—not dead. As long as I know where my bread is buttered, Melkie won’t mind. I swear—there’s no harm in looking,” she huffed, amused by the girl’s outrage. “Well? Are there?” she once more prompted.
“Well, honestly—I hadn’t really noticed. Next to Lurian—they all seem rather lacking...”
Nanna smirked, playfully rolling her eyes at the girl’s earnest claims. It was endearing how her love knew no half measures—much like her Melkie. She imagined it a lingering trait shared by those born of dryad’s blood.
As if uncomfortable with the silence, Claire suddenly volunteered, “...I did catch another of the new maids attempting to sneak into Lurian’s chambers.” Nanna noticed the curious mix of amusement and glee now alight on the girl’s features, as she continued: “You should have seen her face; her pallor went white as a sheet. The poor thing was near in tears when I finally cornered her in the hallway—"
Grabbing some more greens for the salad, Nanna added: “—Let me guess, another of the local Matriarchs instructing her daughter to hop into the boy’s bed?” Seeing Claire nod, she huffed, “I swear, they’re getting bolder every year. Best you stake your claim while you can—girl, before some random harlot beats you to it and sinks her claws into the boy.”
The girl looked both bashful and anxious at her words.
Nanna sighed, and pointing with the tip of her knife, she explained: “Claire, my dear, you’ve got to be more aggressive. You can’t wait for a man as dense as Lurian to make the first move, especially when he’s got those pretty lass’s throwing themselves at his feet...”
“Know that he’ll cave eventually; all men—or ven—inevitably do," she warned.
The kitchen fell silent at her grim pronouncement, and she near instantly regretted her thoughtless words. But the truth was, with Lurian soon departing for The Tower, she worried time was running out.
There he will be surrounded by noble lasses of every flavor, and it takes but one to catch his eye, and Nanna didn’t think a noble-born daughter of one of the twelve would so happily share her beloved with a common maid.
Not unless the deal was already sealed—as it were...
She sighed. “I’m just saying, be bolder—child,” she chuckled. “Perhaps it’s worth learning from that maid... Why not try just jumping into the boy’s bed? I doubt he has it in him to turn you down.”
Claire suddenly looked sheepish, her eyes filled with anxious guilt. “Well...”
Nanna frowned, cautiously curious at the girl's reaction. “Well what? Speak up—girl. Don’t leave me hanging.”
“Oh? Did it work?”
“No, we kissed, and I tried to take it further like you said, but then he couldn’t take it and asked me to stop. I even straddled him on his bed while we were kissing, but that’s as far as we got,” she said, sounding both embarrassed and frustrated by what her words revealed.
Nanna frowned. Her years told her that there was something the girl wasn’t sharing. In her mind, it was a simple affair; just show a little skin and done. ‘With the girl’s looks, there is no way that boy could resist; how—how could it not work?’ she thought, baffled.
Deciding she needed more information, she asked: “When was this?”
“The night before last...”
‘Wait, did she just say the night before last? No, there’s no way she’s that foolish. If that’s the case, it’s no wonder it didn’t work. The boy would have been half dead after the day he had. She’d be lucky if he didn’t throttle her out for even trying.’
Claire, still caught up in her own embarrassment, had no idea that Nanna had begun to seriously doubt the girl’s intellect. She just sat there, her face aflush, while her counterpart’s eyes watched on—judging her mental faculties.
Nanna couldn’t comprehend how such a clever girl couldn’t see the obvious flaw in the timing of her attack. ‘At least, I thought she was clever,’ thought an amused Nanna. ‘Maybe it’s just a blind spot? They’re both so young, and we all have things we miss that seem so obvious to everyone else...’
Finally Claire added: “It—it wasn’t that he was uninterested... I—I could feel as much...” It took a moment for Claire to recover, her face having turned completely scarlet as she explained. “It was the pain... He said it was too much... It—it might always be too much,” she finished, her head down, her eyes low.
Nanna frowned after seeing the anguish in the girl’s eyes and understanding the truth her words revealed. “I see...”
Of course, Nanna had long known of Lurian’s ailment. Though unaware of its nature as a curse, she had seen the torment it inflicted throughout his youth. Why, she’d been there when he first started feeling its burn as a boy. She didn’t think it was still so severe as to get in the way of the couple's intimacy. Lurian’s mask of stoic calm—and the fact that she was no longer a servant under the lord’s employ—had led her to believe it was getting better, and not worse—as he grew into adulthood.
A deep, bitter remorse assailed her as she imagined just how much pain he had suffered while she remained so blissfully unaware. For a time, the small kitchen fell silent as the pair recovered from the intense emotions stirred up in both of them throughout the conversation.
She sighed. “I’m sorry for being so pushy. I was just worried you’d miss your chance. I didn’t realize Lurian still suffers so...”
“He said he didn’t want to worry you when you can do nothing about it.”
“I see,” Nanna said, taking a moment to collect herself. ‘I suppose it is true I could do little... That damn boy, always hiding his bruises so as not to worry me,’ she thought. Old memories of a silver-haired boy of but eight, wearing long sleeves even in the height of summer.
She sighed. All so she wouldn’t see the extensive bruises up and down his arms.
Deciding it best to leave things as they are for now, she asked: “Well, on a lighter note, what will you do with yourself while Lurian is in The Tower?”
Claire, looking relieved by the change in topic, all but jumped on the question. “I don’t know... I’ve done some reading, and as far as I can tell, he will be on the other side for at least six months. It’s a long time to sit waiting, but it’s also not long enough for me to settle down in the City of Spires.”
“Oh? You wish to settle in the big city?”
“No—not at all,” the girl chuckled. “I actually wish to pursue my studies in magic. I’ve been told that I have quite the aptitude, and I figured that the city would be the best place to start.”
Nanna could see the pride in the girl—when she spoke of her talents. It brought a smile to her face. ‘Ahh, to be young,’ she thought.
Tapping her chin with the side of her idle knife, Nanna asked, “If it’s magic you want, why not stay and apprentice under Master Can'tarrous? He is a highly distinguished mage with close to a century practicing magic. He would be a good choice of teacher. I am sure he wouldn’t mind having a formal disciple. The man does enjoy teaching the few elven children present in the village.”
“I thought of that, but Master Can'tarrous is more of a battle-caster. As much as the idea of blasting my enemies to death sounds appealing, it is not practical for anything other than self-defense. I was hoping to pursue something to do with enchanting. The workings of the few sigils within the castle have always fascinated me, and I like the idea of making magic items more accessible to the common folk.” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
Nanna pondered the girl’s words. She thought Claire’s hopes for a career in magic were a little too ambitious, and perhaps a little naive. But she was young once too and knew there was little she could say to dissuade the girl from such pursuits.
Trying for a softer approach, she spoke: “That’s a fine enough dream, but as far as I know, there’s a lot more to apprenticing under a mage than you might think. Know that they won’t just take in every pretty lass that shows up at their door. And the ones that do, I advise you to stay well clear—my dear. There is always a hidden price for such things...”
Nanna, having grown up in the big city and as a daughter to a reasonably wealthy ex-noble, had witnessed herself—the result of many a maiden taken advantage of by those offering what first appears to be charitable aid.
Nanna moved in beside Claire to help her with the salad before she continued: “To get a good teacher, you kind of need to know somebody that knows somebody, and most will already have their apprentices picked out from within their own clans.”
“I know,” Claire sighed. “But a girl can dream, can’t she?”
Nanna chuckled, “She can, but she should still try to keep her goals for the future more realistic. As an elf, you have the gift of a long life; use it, deary. I am sure if you stay by that boy’s side, he will see to it that you are looked after. Maybe give it a few years, wait for things to settle, and ‘then’—you can pursue your dreams of becoming a great mistress of magic.”
“I know, I know,” Claire repeated, “But I don’t want to become just another accessory to Lurian; something he keeps with him that serves little purpose other than looking pretty on his arm. I want more, you know? To be more...”
Claire sighed, her gaze wandering to the window. “Lurian deserves someone who can bear some of that burden he carries, not someone who only adds to its weight,” she said, putting voice to her thoughts.
Nanna smiled; she was happy that the girl was considering the impact her choices would have on Lurian. She liked Claire, but she loved Lurian. If the girl was only using him and his affections to get ahead, she would see to it that the pair were separated, even if she had to march on the keep herself.
Before Nanna could respond, the heavy latch of the cottage door lifted. The sound of Lurian’s deep, measured voice drifted in, followed by the light, rhythmic chatter of Melkie.
The boys were home.
Nanna straightened her apron and offered Claire a small, reassuring pat on the arm. "We'll speak of this again," she murmured. "But for now, let's keep the lunch warm and the talk light. The world is heavy enough as it is."
As the men stepped inside, filling the room with a new vitality, Nanna turned her back to the stove, her eyes lingering on the pair. She found a quiet satisfaction in the way Lurian’s gaze immediately softened the moment it landed on Claire. Perhaps, she thought, the girl wouldn't need her guidance at all. Perhaps she already had everything she needed, if she only dared reach...
“In my not-so-humble opinion, a parent's greatest spiritual failing is not providing a respectable idol in which to emulate. Thankfully, though we are not at liberty to choose our fathers nor our mothers, it is still within our meager power to choose our heroes. In such cases, it is ever more important we choose your idols wisely, for it’s their lessons that will shape our paths going forward. And lessons once learnt are ever more difficult to truly cast aside.”
—A wise man’s thoughts on Parenting