Post by Archivist~Alabaster on Mar 2, 2006 10:39:07 GMT -5
Author: Vancedar
Link: forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-scarletcrusade&t=162227&p=1&tmp=1#post162227
Lady Ailene Amorica Fa’nor lay in the bed knowing that her young life was coming to end. Her long crimson hair cascaded down the bed and its lighter shade mingled with the blood that soaked the sheets around her. Her midwife and a bevy of priests talked quietly in the corner punctuating their speech with gestures in her direction. As she grew colder and colder, she heard the cries of her baby… no… babies as if through water. At sixteen years of age, she never dreamt that she would be a mother and dying….
As Ailene bounced into her father’s study, a few stray locks of her hair tumbled out of the severe bun that her maid had forced her to wear today.
Normally, she wore a single braid down the middle of her back, but Silian had insisted that it made her look too young. “You are no longer a child.
You need to look like the lady you now are.”
Ailene laughed at the old woman. “I am fourteen summers. I have years before I need to worry about being a lady.”
“Women younger than you are made wives and mothers. It is part of your duty. You will marry well to bring your father a tidy dowry. Once a wife, you will do your duty in running his household as well as warming his bed.
If you are a very lucky woman, you will quickly begin to give him the honor of strong, intelligent sons and graceful, beautiful daughters. Remember Ailene, a man wants a son. Your bed duties may just end if you have one.”
Silian punctuated her comments by roughly pulling the brush through the russet curls. “As well, your fifteenth birthday is just five days away.”
As usual, Ailene just ignored the maid’s sage advice. Not an hour later she was called into her father’s study and that was why she was bouncing in as usual.
“Papa, you called for me?” She looked across the room to see her father talking quite seriously to a gray bearded man encased in armor etched with the same symbols she saw weekly in her trip to the Cathedral. He was perhaps one of those in the church called a paladin, the fists of the light.
Her father glanced her way and for the first time frowned at her in a disapproving way. “Aye, allow me to introduce someone who will be very important to our family, Lord Ormande Fa’nor.” She tried to curb her youthful exuberance for her father’s sake and glided gracefully across the floor. She curtsied to the elderly gentleman and in return he nodded and smiled at her father.
“My friend, she will do nicely. We will go to the church this afternoon to publish the bans.”
Ailene looked from the stranger to her father with disbelief. “The bans?”
Her father gave her a disapproving look and hushed her. “Your wedding bans. Lord Fa’nor and I have negotiated your marriage. In two months time, you will be his bride.” The girl masked her shock at this news and looked again at this man. Her father was marrying her to a dried up, battle scarred, old man?
The time before her wedding had been a whirlwind of fittings, parties, and packing. Little did it prepare her for the realities of marriage. After that first night when he had kissed her with his thick lips, pawed her with his calloused hands, and caused her such terrible pain from the roughness of their joining, she had been ready to return home. Silian had held her tightly and quietly explained, “You have been sold to this man for the dowry. His home is now your home. You have nowhere else to go. Have a son for him quickly and then he will not need to touch you so often. A son… there lies your only hope for happiness.”
She had embraced her duty and what she had gotten was this slow, tortured bleeding to death. She would not live to see her seventeenth summer. “Bring me the children. Let me see them before….” The midwife rushed to the bassinets and cradled the infants, one in each arm, to show them to the quickly fading girl. Tears rose in her eyes when she realized that she had not just brought one girl into the world, but two. The second realization quickly stopped the tears from flowing. The first child had the blonde hair and invisible eyebrows and eyelashes that her husband had had in his youth. The second one had raven hair and a slight lift to the corners of her eyes. The second child was his, the stranger in Goldshire. One mother, two fathers.
“Aren’t you a bit young to be wandering through this den of iniquity by yourself.” Ailene looked over to see a tall, ravishingly handsome raven haired man in robes. There were symbols embroidered on his sleeves that showed he was no mage, however. He was a follower of the shadows, a manipulator of the fel, a warlock.
“I am here on official business for my husband.” She tried to look taller and more important. She didn’t know why she felt the need to seem impressive to this man, but she did.
He chuckled softly, “An old married woman, eh?” He quickly gulfed the space between them in two steps and smiled down at her. “I have never in my life seen an old woman as beautiful as you. May I talk to you?”
Oh they talked, at first with their words and then finally with their bodies. She learned things and, for the first time, felt things as if she really were a woman and not a child. She had awoken in the dark of night, naked and alone on the bank of the stream. Her dalliance had gone undiscovered because of Silian’s quick thinking. She found the child, dressed her, and told the Lord that she had become ill on the errand. She tended the emotional girl daily telling her husband that she appeared to be with child. Eventually, what had been a lie was found to be true.
Ailene felt herself failing as she stared at the fruit of her womb. She would never be there to see them raised, but she would give them something, though little she had. “I name the blonde girl… Lillean Patrice Fa’nor.
The raven haired… Vancedar Elizabeth Fa’nor.” With those as her final words, Lady Ailene Amorica Fa’nor faded out of this world and embraced the darkness of death.
~PART 2~
The brilliant sunshine punctuated the canopy of the trees of Elwynn Forest and cast a glow on the golden haired toddler giggling and throwing her ball into the air. The nursemaid, Silian, smiled at the joy this child, angelic Lillean, constantly brought her. She might look like her father, but her sweet nature and amiable personality came from her dear dead mama. As she had raised Ailene, Silian had taken it upon herself to raise her daughter. She caught and corrected herself… her daughters. The other child, Vancedar, sat with her dark hair tangled about face in the shadow of one of the great oaks. This one was precise and cautious. Earlier she had found a small, sharp stick and she was using it to draw circles and lines in the dirt. This child was quiet and hesitant, nothing like her sister.
Silian was not even aware that she fell asleep until she heard the scream. In a moment of abstraction, she had let the warmth of the sun lull her into dreams. As she started awake, she saw sweet Lillean running toward her crying. She looked closely at the child to see a large welt forming on her cheek, bruising quickly. She wheeled around. Vancedar was still seated on the ground, watching her sister’s outburst calmly. She was actually paying more attention to her twin than she normally did. As Silian wrapped her arms around her golden girl, the dark haired youngster turned back to her drawing. It was times such as these that the elderly woman wished she was a bit younger and more able to handle the boisterous twins. Lillean, it seemed, was prone to hurting herself. It seemed to be happening more and more as the girls grew. Strangely though, it always happened when Silian’s attention was preoccupied elsewhere.
Lillean placed her tiny hand in that of the old woman after her tears had dried and dragged her over to the spot where she had been throwing the ball with such abandon. On the ground next to the ball was a rock of about the same size. The golden haired sweetheart pointed at the rock and talked her pretty nonsense at Silian.
Poor child grabbed the rock instead of the ball and when she threw it, it hit her cheek.
Silian comforted the girl again in her agitation and explained to the toddler not to throw rocks. As always, her attention was on Lillean. If she had looked closely at the darker twin, Silian would have noticed the odd smile that came to Vancedar’s face as she grabbed another rock to hide under her skirt.
Link: forums.worldofwarcraft.com/thread.aspx?fn=wow-realm-scarletcrusade&t=162227&p=1&tmp=1#post162227
Lady Ailene Amorica Fa’nor lay in the bed knowing that her young life was coming to end. Her long crimson hair cascaded down the bed and its lighter shade mingled with the blood that soaked the sheets around her. Her midwife and a bevy of priests talked quietly in the corner punctuating their speech with gestures in her direction. As she grew colder and colder, she heard the cries of her baby… no… babies as if through water. At sixteen years of age, she never dreamt that she would be a mother and dying….
As Ailene bounced into her father’s study, a few stray locks of her hair tumbled out of the severe bun that her maid had forced her to wear today.
Normally, she wore a single braid down the middle of her back, but Silian had insisted that it made her look too young. “You are no longer a child.
You need to look like the lady you now are.”
Ailene laughed at the old woman. “I am fourteen summers. I have years before I need to worry about being a lady.”
“Women younger than you are made wives and mothers. It is part of your duty. You will marry well to bring your father a tidy dowry. Once a wife, you will do your duty in running his household as well as warming his bed.
If you are a very lucky woman, you will quickly begin to give him the honor of strong, intelligent sons and graceful, beautiful daughters. Remember Ailene, a man wants a son. Your bed duties may just end if you have one.”
Silian punctuated her comments by roughly pulling the brush through the russet curls. “As well, your fifteenth birthday is just five days away.”
As usual, Ailene just ignored the maid’s sage advice. Not an hour later she was called into her father’s study and that was why she was bouncing in as usual.
“Papa, you called for me?” She looked across the room to see her father talking quite seriously to a gray bearded man encased in armor etched with the same symbols she saw weekly in her trip to the Cathedral. He was perhaps one of those in the church called a paladin, the fists of the light.
Her father glanced her way and for the first time frowned at her in a disapproving way. “Aye, allow me to introduce someone who will be very important to our family, Lord Ormande Fa’nor.” She tried to curb her youthful exuberance for her father’s sake and glided gracefully across the floor. She curtsied to the elderly gentleman and in return he nodded and smiled at her father.
“My friend, she will do nicely. We will go to the church this afternoon to publish the bans.”
Ailene looked from the stranger to her father with disbelief. “The bans?”
Her father gave her a disapproving look and hushed her. “Your wedding bans. Lord Fa’nor and I have negotiated your marriage. In two months time, you will be his bride.” The girl masked her shock at this news and looked again at this man. Her father was marrying her to a dried up, battle scarred, old man?
The time before her wedding had been a whirlwind of fittings, parties, and packing. Little did it prepare her for the realities of marriage. After that first night when he had kissed her with his thick lips, pawed her with his calloused hands, and caused her such terrible pain from the roughness of their joining, she had been ready to return home. Silian had held her tightly and quietly explained, “You have been sold to this man for the dowry. His home is now your home. You have nowhere else to go. Have a son for him quickly and then he will not need to touch you so often. A son… there lies your only hope for happiness.”
She had embraced her duty and what she had gotten was this slow, tortured bleeding to death. She would not live to see her seventeenth summer. “Bring me the children. Let me see them before….” The midwife rushed to the bassinets and cradled the infants, one in each arm, to show them to the quickly fading girl. Tears rose in her eyes when she realized that she had not just brought one girl into the world, but two. The second realization quickly stopped the tears from flowing. The first child had the blonde hair and invisible eyebrows and eyelashes that her husband had had in his youth. The second one had raven hair and a slight lift to the corners of her eyes. The second child was his, the stranger in Goldshire. One mother, two fathers.
“Aren’t you a bit young to be wandering through this den of iniquity by yourself.” Ailene looked over to see a tall, ravishingly handsome raven haired man in robes. There were symbols embroidered on his sleeves that showed he was no mage, however. He was a follower of the shadows, a manipulator of the fel, a warlock.
“I am here on official business for my husband.” She tried to look taller and more important. She didn’t know why she felt the need to seem impressive to this man, but she did.
He chuckled softly, “An old married woman, eh?” He quickly gulfed the space between them in two steps and smiled down at her. “I have never in my life seen an old woman as beautiful as you. May I talk to you?”
Oh they talked, at first with their words and then finally with their bodies. She learned things and, for the first time, felt things as if she really were a woman and not a child. She had awoken in the dark of night, naked and alone on the bank of the stream. Her dalliance had gone undiscovered because of Silian’s quick thinking. She found the child, dressed her, and told the Lord that she had become ill on the errand. She tended the emotional girl daily telling her husband that she appeared to be with child. Eventually, what had been a lie was found to be true.
Ailene felt herself failing as she stared at the fruit of her womb. She would never be there to see them raised, but she would give them something, though little she had. “I name the blonde girl… Lillean Patrice Fa’nor.
The raven haired… Vancedar Elizabeth Fa’nor.” With those as her final words, Lady Ailene Amorica Fa’nor faded out of this world and embraced the darkness of death.
~PART 2~
The brilliant sunshine punctuated the canopy of the trees of Elwynn Forest and cast a glow on the golden haired toddler giggling and throwing her ball into the air. The nursemaid, Silian, smiled at the joy this child, angelic Lillean, constantly brought her. She might look like her father, but her sweet nature and amiable personality came from her dear dead mama. As she had raised Ailene, Silian had taken it upon herself to raise her daughter. She caught and corrected herself… her daughters. The other child, Vancedar, sat with her dark hair tangled about face in the shadow of one of the great oaks. This one was precise and cautious. Earlier she had found a small, sharp stick and she was using it to draw circles and lines in the dirt. This child was quiet and hesitant, nothing like her sister.
Silian was not even aware that she fell asleep until she heard the scream. In a moment of abstraction, she had let the warmth of the sun lull her into dreams. As she started awake, she saw sweet Lillean running toward her crying. She looked closely at the child to see a large welt forming on her cheek, bruising quickly. She wheeled around. Vancedar was still seated on the ground, watching her sister’s outburst calmly. She was actually paying more attention to her twin than she normally did. As Silian wrapped her arms around her golden girl, the dark haired youngster turned back to her drawing. It was times such as these that the elderly woman wished she was a bit younger and more able to handle the boisterous twins. Lillean, it seemed, was prone to hurting herself. It seemed to be happening more and more as the girls grew. Strangely though, it always happened when Silian’s attention was preoccupied elsewhere.
Lillean placed her tiny hand in that of the old woman after her tears had dried and dragged her over to the spot where she had been throwing the ball with such abandon. On the ground next to the ball was a rock of about the same size. The golden haired sweetheart pointed at the rock and talked her pretty nonsense at Silian.
Poor child grabbed the rock instead of the ball and when she threw it, it hit her cheek.
Silian comforted the girl again in her agitation and explained to the toddler not to throw rocks. As always, her attention was on Lillean. If she had looked closely at the darker twin, Silian would have noticed the odd smile that came to Vancedar’s face as she grabbed another rock to hide under her skirt.