Post by Fate on Dec 13, 2010 17:53:28 GMT 10
To Slone,
I wrote you something festive and rolled it around in sugar to make it sickly sweet. Hope it doesn't make you barf!
<3 Fate
Title: The Last Midwinter
Rating: G
Wishlist Item: #3 During Midwinter
Summary: Told from Daine's grandfather's POV. Their very last Midwinter together.
It was a harsh winter in Snowsdale. The wind fell harder and the wind cut deeper. It made the joints of Benek's hands ache so much that he could not pull back the string of his bow. If it had not been for the sharp eye and nimble hands of his granddaughter Veralidaine they might have not have had fresh meat that winter. Benek might grumble at the pain in his joints but really he was pleased. He had taught Veralidaine to shoot a bow and even as a lass of twelve she was as good a shot as any man in the village. So long as Verlidaine caught an occasional rabbit or game gird and the mice or damp didn't creep into Sarra's cellar where she had packed the gardens harvest and small orchards yield they would not go hungry this winter.
He sat in front of the hearth holding a carving knife with a polished antler hilt in one hand and a a piece of fine grained pine in the other. He was carving a puppet for Veralidaine's Midwinter gift. He didn't like giving practical gifts like a new set of boots or a bow to replace the old one of his she used - those were for every day. For his Veralidaine he liked to give something special. He liked to add to the collection he started years ago with a birthday gift. She had a Lady, a pony, a dog, a cat, a robin with wings that moved, and a ewe with two little lambs.
Sarra came to the hearth to place a dish by the fire and then looked over his shoulder. His daughter knew better than to suggest to him that maybe her daughter was becoming too old for toys.
"What will you make this year, father?" She asked, her hands rested on the back of his chair.
"A man." He answered, blowing shavings from the figure.
She was silent for a moment and he knew she was studying it more closely.
"Is it... a grandfather?" She asked.
Benek nodded. "I'm not going to be around forever." He said, "She needs something to remind her of me."
He felt her hesitate for a moment then she leaned down and kissed his snowy white hair. "She could never forget you." Sarra said. She stayed a second longer then turned away to tend to the preparation of supper.
Their relationship had been strained since her belly had begun to swell and then shamed him twice by refusing to name the father. But he could not turn her out and he could not resent the baby she had birthed.
The wind howled as it tugging at the shutters and thatch but Benek and his daughter were silent as they worked on their tasks. Under Benek's skilled hand, the puppet was given a man's face and Sarra was mixing herbs for tea brews that would soothe coughs. Benek was glad, he thought his chest would need it this winter.
When he heard Mammoth's bark announcing Veralidaine's return he rose, wincing at his stiff joints and went to his room to hide the puppet until he could work on it again. When Veralidaine came in the door her cheeks flushed red from the cold and she grinned widely.
"Ma! Grandda! Come see, me n' Cloud could barely get it back!"
Benek stepped into a pair of fur lined boots before following his granddaughter out into the cold. Cloud, Veralidaine's pony, stood up to her knees in the snow, tiny ice crystals clinging to her mane and tale. A rope was tied to her plain leather and wood saddle and on the other end was the carcass of horned buck.
"Father your coat!" Sarra scolded as she followed and placed the thick coast over his shoulders, "My cough tea will no good if- Oh, Daine!" She had seen the stag.
Daine went to stand beside her pony, clearly proud of herself and her friend. It was no easy task for a young girl to shoot a stag and drag it back through the deep snow with only a pony. "I figure the cold will keep it from going bad for a few days and we could smoke the rest."
Benek grinned. "Bring it to the barn," He said, "It will be safe there from the foxes and like until we can butcher it proper." He turned to get the barn door for her, "And let's get that pony out of the snow."
* * *
The kitchen was full of good smells that Midwinter morning. Sarra had fried up smoked venison sausages, potatoes with onions, and eggs that Benek had to dig a path to the chicken coop to get. There were biscuits that Sarra was just pulling from the oven and wild raspberry and summer plum jam on the table. Benek has already got what milk he could from their milking cow so there would be milk for Veralidaine's cup and his and Sarra's tea.
Veralidaine was in the barn feeding her pony and the other animals. When she returned breakfast would be ready and she could unwrap her puppet. Benek had completed carving and painting it last week. The old man had a head of fuzzy white hair made of sheep's wool and a leather tunic and boots Sarra had helped him stitch to go over the blue shirt and brown breeches Benek had painted on to the puppet. It resembled Verlidaine's Grandda as much as a wooden man could.
"Your tea, father," Sarra said, placing a steaming hot clay mug of her special brew in front of him on the table. Benek accepted with a mug and took a gulp, warming himself down to his toes.
The door slammed, Veralidaine was back and stomping the snow from her boots. "Cloud and the rest are fed and I gave 'em something special for Midwinter. Ma, it smells wonderful in here!"
Her lips touched his whiskered cheek before she slid into her chair. "Happy Midwinter Grandda!" She said and placed a cloth package tied with a ribbon next to him on the table. His gift and one from her mother were already in her place.
Benek unwrapped the package as Sarra placed the biscuits on the table and took her own seat, she had her own gift to unwrap as well.
It was a new shirt and tunic. The shirt was dyed a blue that would match the eyes he had bequeathed to his daughter and her to her own daughter. The tunic was a thick weave with a some sort of pattern around the hems.
"It's from Ma too." Veralidaine said quickly, "I needed her help, especially to embroider the stags and does."
Benek had noticed the uneven seams and stitching but didn't say anything. He squinted, now seeing the little creatures prancing around the hems. It was a beautiful tunic and Benek knew how much his granddaughter detested domestic skills.
"It's a fine tunic!" He said, "I'll be envy of all the grandfathers in Snowsdale!"
Veralidaine smiled at him and then half laughed half squealed when she saw the little old man puppet. "It's you Grandda!" She said, lifting the puppet as gently she would a new born lamb. She traced the puppet's face and touched his fuzzy white hair.
Benek smiled and caught Sarra's eye as she smiled back. "You like him?"
"He's perfect." Veralidaine said, cradling the puppet.
Benek grabbed a biscuit and slathered it in raspberry jam. "I thought you needed something to reminds you of you Grandda when you got old." He said and popped the biscuit whole in his mouth.
There was a scraping sound as Veralidaine pushed her chair back and threw herself into his arms, "I could never forget my Grandda !" She laughed and kissed his cheek.
Benek swallowed and hugged her back, stroking his Veralidaine's hair.
"Happy Midwinter Veralidaine." He told her.
"Daine, let your Grandda eat," Sarra said gently, "And pass the plum jam."
Benek smiled as his granddaughter sat back in her chair and took two sausages for his plate.
I wrote you something festive and rolled it around in sugar to make it sickly sweet. Hope it doesn't make you barf!
<3 Fate
Title: The Last Midwinter
Rating: G
Wishlist Item: #3 During Midwinter
Summary: Told from Daine's grandfather's POV. Their very last Midwinter together.
The Last Midwinter
It was a harsh winter in Snowsdale. The wind fell harder and the wind cut deeper. It made the joints of Benek's hands ache so much that he could not pull back the string of his bow. If it had not been for the sharp eye and nimble hands of his granddaughter Veralidaine they might have not have had fresh meat that winter. Benek might grumble at the pain in his joints but really he was pleased. He had taught Veralidaine to shoot a bow and even as a lass of twelve she was as good a shot as any man in the village. So long as Verlidaine caught an occasional rabbit or game gird and the mice or damp didn't creep into Sarra's cellar where she had packed the gardens harvest and small orchards yield they would not go hungry this winter.
He sat in front of the hearth holding a carving knife with a polished antler hilt in one hand and a a piece of fine grained pine in the other. He was carving a puppet for Veralidaine's Midwinter gift. He didn't like giving practical gifts like a new set of boots or a bow to replace the old one of his she used - those were for every day. For his Veralidaine he liked to give something special. He liked to add to the collection he started years ago with a birthday gift. She had a Lady, a pony, a dog, a cat, a robin with wings that moved, and a ewe with two little lambs.
Sarra came to the hearth to place a dish by the fire and then looked over his shoulder. His daughter knew better than to suggest to him that maybe her daughter was becoming too old for toys.
"What will you make this year, father?" She asked, her hands rested on the back of his chair.
"A man." He answered, blowing shavings from the figure.
She was silent for a moment and he knew she was studying it more closely.
"Is it... a grandfather?" She asked.
Benek nodded. "I'm not going to be around forever." He said, "She needs something to remind her of me."
He felt her hesitate for a moment then she leaned down and kissed his snowy white hair. "She could never forget you." Sarra said. She stayed a second longer then turned away to tend to the preparation of supper.
Their relationship had been strained since her belly had begun to swell and then shamed him twice by refusing to name the father. But he could not turn her out and he could not resent the baby she had birthed.
The wind howled as it tugging at the shutters and thatch but Benek and his daughter were silent as they worked on their tasks. Under Benek's skilled hand, the puppet was given a man's face and Sarra was mixing herbs for tea brews that would soothe coughs. Benek was glad, he thought his chest would need it this winter.
When he heard Mammoth's bark announcing Veralidaine's return he rose, wincing at his stiff joints and went to his room to hide the puppet until he could work on it again. When Veralidaine came in the door her cheeks flushed red from the cold and she grinned widely.
"Ma! Grandda! Come see, me n' Cloud could barely get it back!"
Benek stepped into a pair of fur lined boots before following his granddaughter out into the cold. Cloud, Veralidaine's pony, stood up to her knees in the snow, tiny ice crystals clinging to her mane and tale. A rope was tied to her plain leather and wood saddle and on the other end was the carcass of horned buck.
"Father your coat!" Sarra scolded as she followed and placed the thick coast over his shoulders, "My cough tea will no good if- Oh, Daine!" She had seen the stag.
Daine went to stand beside her pony, clearly proud of herself and her friend. It was no easy task for a young girl to shoot a stag and drag it back through the deep snow with only a pony. "I figure the cold will keep it from going bad for a few days and we could smoke the rest."
Benek grinned. "Bring it to the barn," He said, "It will be safe there from the foxes and like until we can butcher it proper." He turned to get the barn door for her, "And let's get that pony out of the snow."
* * *
The kitchen was full of good smells that Midwinter morning. Sarra had fried up smoked venison sausages, potatoes with onions, and eggs that Benek had to dig a path to the chicken coop to get. There were biscuits that Sarra was just pulling from the oven and wild raspberry and summer plum jam on the table. Benek has already got what milk he could from their milking cow so there would be milk for Veralidaine's cup and his and Sarra's tea.
Veralidaine was in the barn feeding her pony and the other animals. When she returned breakfast would be ready and she could unwrap her puppet. Benek had completed carving and painting it last week. The old man had a head of fuzzy white hair made of sheep's wool and a leather tunic and boots Sarra had helped him stitch to go over the blue shirt and brown breeches Benek had painted on to the puppet. It resembled Verlidaine's Grandda as much as a wooden man could.
"Your tea, father," Sarra said, placing a steaming hot clay mug of her special brew in front of him on the table. Benek accepted with a mug and took a gulp, warming himself down to his toes.
The door slammed, Veralidaine was back and stomping the snow from her boots. "Cloud and the rest are fed and I gave 'em something special for Midwinter. Ma, it smells wonderful in here!"
Her lips touched his whiskered cheek before she slid into her chair. "Happy Midwinter Grandda!" She said and placed a cloth package tied with a ribbon next to him on the table. His gift and one from her mother were already in her place.
Benek unwrapped the package as Sarra placed the biscuits on the table and took her own seat, she had her own gift to unwrap as well.
It was a new shirt and tunic. The shirt was dyed a blue that would match the eyes he had bequeathed to his daughter and her to her own daughter. The tunic was a thick weave with a some sort of pattern around the hems.
"It's from Ma too." Veralidaine said quickly, "I needed her help, especially to embroider the stags and does."
Benek had noticed the uneven seams and stitching but didn't say anything. He squinted, now seeing the little creatures prancing around the hems. It was a beautiful tunic and Benek knew how much his granddaughter detested domestic skills.
"It's a fine tunic!" He said, "I'll be envy of all the grandfathers in Snowsdale!"
Veralidaine smiled at him and then half laughed half squealed when she saw the little old man puppet. "It's you Grandda!" She said, lifting the puppet as gently she would a new born lamb. She traced the puppet's face and touched his fuzzy white hair.
Benek smiled and caught Sarra's eye as she smiled back. "You like him?"
"He's perfect." Veralidaine said, cradling the puppet.
Benek grabbed a biscuit and slathered it in raspberry jam. "I thought you needed something to reminds you of you Grandda when you got old." He said and popped the biscuit whole in his mouth.
There was a scraping sound as Veralidaine pushed her chair back and threw herself into his arms, "I could never forget my Grandda !" She laughed and kissed his cheek.
Benek swallowed and hugged her back, stroking his Veralidaine's hair.
"Happy Midwinter Veralidaine." He told her.
"Daine, let your Grandda eat," Sarra said gently, "And pass the plum jam."
Benek smiled as his granddaughter sat back in her chair and took two sausages for his plate.