Mellia — Bells And Robes
????, Earth Season, Season/Disorder Week
Context
1626 Earth Season/Disorder Week/Fireday/early morning, after Wedding Bells and Sealing Wax. [[[s02:session-1|Session 1]]]
Events
It’s early morning at the White Grape.
People are getting ready to head out in a while.
Mellia is wearing her travelling robes and carrying the robe she wore on the quest bundled under one arm. She walks hurriedly toward the front door of the inn.
Rondrik looks up from his cleaning. “White Lady? Do you require anything?”
“No, thank you,” replies Mellia. “I’m just going to the market.”
“I was going to send my boy to market for something. He could accompany you,” he offers.
“Thank you! I know the others would feel better if I had an escort.”
“Ronan,” he calls into the kitchen, “I need you to go to market now, for the spices your mother wanted. Go with the White Lady and mind what she says.”
A young, brown-haired boy of about 8 appears at a run. He’s a miniature version of his da.
Mellia waits until Ronan comes out. “What I say is that if there is trouble, or I say so, you are to run back here as fast as you can and get my friends.”
He eyes Mellia with speculation. “And leave you?” He looks back at his father for confirmation. Rondrik nods solemnly at the lad.
“I may be running right behind you,” says Mellia. “Let’s get going before it gets hot.”
He gives Mellia a gap toothed smile and then races for the door. “Ronan!” Rondrik calls out. The boy grins sheepishly at his father. “I was just checkin’. To see if she’s fast.”
Mellia chuckles. “I’m not. Let’s walk and save our strength, hmm?”
The boy slows down and waits for the healer to catch up. “What do you need in th’ market?” he asks. “Oh. And um, need me to carry tha’?”
“Thanks, I can carry the robe. I want to tell the merchant who gave it to me that I wore it on the Lightbringers’ Quest.”
“You were Ch’lana Roy, right? Did you see baddies? Were there ghosts and trolls and….” he rattles on with his questions, not really waiting for answers.
“I was Chalana Arroy. There were trolls and dead people and undead people, a giant monster, a demon…. ” Mellia tries to keep up with the questions anyway.
“Did Humakt and Orlanth kill all the baddies? Was the Vingan Lady hurt? She had lotsa blood on her. I heard da telling mum ‘bout it.”
“Humakt had to kill Orlanth to send us all to Hell,” Mellia explains. “Humakt and Orlanth killed lots of bad people. Zorak Zoran ran away again.”
He starts to stab at imaginary foes with an imaginary sword, as he leads her down the street. “Death to Z’rak Z’ran! Rawr!”
He’s such a fierce little guy, that people make a path for him.
“Easy there,” Mellia tells him, “a market is a place of peace.”
“What d’ya need first?” he asks.
“I think we should get your spices first, Ronan. Then we can go see my merchant.”
“Ok. I’m just picking stuff up. It’s a reglar order. It’ll be fast. Wanna see how fast?” he offers.
“I think you shouldn’t run in here unless you need to,” Mellia says. “Let’s go pick the spices up.”
“Ok.” He grins his gapped smile at her. Then tugs at her robe to pull her in the direction of the booth he needs.
Mellia will go where Ronan needs to go, asking all the time where the clothing merchants are today.
The boy bounces up to a spice merchant who obviously knows him well. She ruffles his hair and admonishes him to be careful with the bundle she hands him.
Mellia smiles and keeps an eye out for thieves. No one would rob her, but a young boy is not as safe.
He grins at Mellia and dumps the package down the front of his tunic, so it’s caught by his belt. It’s a funny sort of pocket, but it does the job. “This way,” he urges, dragging her towards the depths of the market.
Mellia follows her guide. If they should happen to pass a seller of sweets, she will buy them each one piece of candied something-or-other which is not beetles.
There’s lots of options for treats along the way.
(But do you want a boy with sticky fingers in a fabric shop?)
Mellia will tell Ronan to save the candy for after the fabric merchant. She’ll even set a good example by putting her candy in a belt pouch for later.
He looks disappointed but does as he’s asked.
Mellia makes a mental note to buy more candy for him on the way out.
They enter an area full of stalls with fabric.
Mellia starts looking for the stall she found before the quest. Those silk scarves are probably on display.
Just up ahead, the bright colours of the silks are fluttering in the very slight early morning breeze.
Mellia walks faster in that direction.
The woman she met with last time is still at the booth.
“Good morning,” Mellia calls out to the woman. “Do you have a moment?”
“Ah, the Healer,” the woman’s voice is warm with greeting. “And how are you this fine morning?”
“Recovering from the Lightbringers’ Quest. I wanted to tell you that I wore your niece’s robe on it. I promise I will get it cleaned and repaired.”
The woman studies Mellia. “You were Chalana Arroy?”
Mellia nods. “I brought the robe to prove it and you can see the wound I took if you really want to.”
“Oh Healer. I don’t need such proof from you. I believe it.” She reaches for the healer’s cheek with fingers calloused from years of wielding a needle.
“That is a dangerous quest, and for one such as you, a devastating one.” Her brown eyes peer into Mellia’s.
Mellia lets the merchant touch her cheek. Mellia is blushing. “Prince Kallyr is back and the Flame of Sartar burns once again.” Despite the joyous news, Mellia’s brown eyes hold the shadows of the dead in Hell.
“I wondered if that might have been you and your friends.” She lets her hand drop. “There will be a lot of blood on the robe then. And at least one rent. I could take it back, clean it, and mend it for you. It will take some days. But it would be my honour to do this for you, White Lady.”
Sincerity shines in the woman’s gaze.
“You would need to hold the robe for me for some seasons, or send it to me by messenger. I go now to my kin in Esrolia, to negotiate my wedding.” Mellia brightens at the very thought of Venlar. She hands the robe to the merchant.
“Tell me where it needs to go in Esrolia, Healer. I will find a way to get it to you.”
Mellia happily gives directions to House Saiciae, Nochet, Esrolia. “Thank you very much. Do you do weddings? I asked Prince Kallyr to preside over mine.”
“Weddings? You would like a gown for your wedding?”
“Prince Kallyr may see fit to get outfits for the entire wedding party, both sides. Negotiations have not yet begun, but shall I mention you to her?”
The woman smiles broadly at the young Healer. “Please do. But if it is a large wedding, I will not be able to clothe everyone. It is just me doing the needlework these days.”
“I will mention you to her, then. I can’t think of anyone I would rather trust with my wedding gown.” Mellia smiles brightly back at the seamstress.
There’s a lot of happy fussing. And before Mellia leaves, the woman offers her a package with the linen underthings she had requested.
Mellia pays for the linen underthings with a smile.
Ronan is looking very bored with all this talk of weddings and robes and such. He’s shifting from foot to foot, staring at the brightly coloured silks as they shift in the light breeze.
Mellia spots the fidgeting and says, “We must be going.” She sighs happily. “I will send letters and keep you abreast of the negotiations, if you like.”
“I don’t read, White Lady, but word about the order as soon as you are ready to place it would be appreciated. I will need time.” Her eyes are crinkled at the corners with her broad smile. “A wedding will be a wonderful thing. My niece would have…” The smile turns wistful. “She would have loved it. Now, go with you before your young escort runs out of manners. He’s trying very hard.”
And indeed, Ronan is, but it’s clear that he’s very aware there’s a sweet waiting for him too.
Mellia nods. “I will send word,” she promises. Mellia collects Ronan and heads home, stopping only to get another sweet or two as reward for patience.
