Mellia Mends

1627, Dark Season


Context

Mellia tries to help Venlar make amends after he got a bit heavy-handed in his match-making attempts. After session 55 (Wolf at the Door) and immediately following Match-maker Admonished.

Events

Mellia has a quiet chat with Varanis in the White Grape. Mellia then goes out in search of Venlar.

Venlar is found easily. While he has organised staying at the mansion, he knows that the social hub here is the White Grape.

Mellia carols, “Sweetheart, we need to talk before Berra kills you.”

Venlar pauses in lifting a cup to his lips, and with his usual care when he thinks he might be about to spill something, casts around for somewhere to put it before answering. “She will not,” he says confidently. Perhaps there is more confidence than warranted, when the items ‘Berra’ and ‘killing’ can be put together.

“She is that angry with you,” Mellia replies. “Can I try to fend off a duel?”

“I do not think she was angry when I left her,” Venlar replies. “Certainly not in a killing mood, or she would have said something then. She is at her Temple now, anyhow. What makes you think she is that irate she would invite me to breakfast for one?”

Mellia says, “Venlar, did you go looking for suitors for Berra’s sister?”

“No, I went looking for a situation in which I could cause people to wish to be suitors for Berra’s sister. That’s a fine distinction, and one to which I hold firm.” He smiles in a way that just about anyone would find heart-melting, and then removes the smile so he can pay attention to Mellia.[[footnote]]Criticalled Charm. That cute thing that he doesn’t know he’s doing? He’s probably doing it. Mellia passed Charm, and he thinks she is just wonderful right now.[[/footnote]]

“Dearest love, I think Berra feels you think she can’t take care of her sister.”

“She has little political acuity,” Venlar says carefully. It is not the instant support of Berra that it could be.

Mellia says,”How did politics get involved?”

“Berra is rich and related to powerful people,” her husband replies. “Her sister is the closest that anyone will get to marrying her, and as we are in Boldhome I want to take advantage of that by getting her the best husband we can. I should have asked Varanis for help, but I did not think I needed it, yet.”

Mellia nods. “Does Yehna want a husband? “

“She’s been widowed for a year. She’s looking at men again, and she’s the marrying sort. I talked it through with my sister, who is not an expert on love, but a very good observer of people. She does not know she wants a husband yet, Yamia says, but the want is there.”

Mellia looks comforted, but says, “An apology to Yehna and Berra for not consulting them first would be wise.”

“Oh, I’ll talk to Yehna first, of course,” Venlar says. “But I wanted to take her shopping and the snow is coming down. She needs new clothes. I suppose that helps a woman be happier about an explanation.”

Mellia nods. “Gifts are always useful, my love. I may go find Berra before the snow gets worse.”

“Up at her Temple. Take warm clothes in case they make you wait.” Venlar rises and stretches, remembers his wine, and sinks it back. A couple of drinkers look on in envy or amusement.

Mellia kisses Venlar on the cheek. She wraps up in a white wool cloak and ducks out to find Berra at the Humakti temple.

The snow drifts down, covering houses and turning to water under the feet of traffic along the roads. The Humakti Temple has its gates open, indicating not only that it is open for visitors, but also that Death cannot be held in.

Mellia does her best to keep her feet dry. She asks for Berra at the gate.

The guard goes in to see if Berra is available, and a few minutes later comes out to tell her, “Initiate Berra is busy, but you are welcome to come in and wait.”

Mellia thanks the guard and goes in. She asks if any need her help.

There is a courtyard, half empty, in which people are practicing, some with blunt weapons and some with sharp ones against shields. There is a little blood on the ground, but nobody seems hurt. Healing must have happened already. Inside there is a practice hall, and here people are not using weapons, but are generally meditating or doing slow-motion weights. Berra is there, eyes closed, dressed only in her loin cloth and chest wrap, feet bare on the cold floor. Her eyes are closed, and D’Val is painting sigils on her in woad.

She is, of course, attending at her Temple for training. The Humakti Temple has rather harsher ways than the White Lady’s House.

Mellia quietly watched for a while. As soon as D’Val is done, she says, “Sword of Humakt, may I borrow your student please?”

“You may speak with her as long as you make not attempt to warm her or comfort her,” D’Val says, his duck accent light.

“Thank you. Berra, how do I get you not to challenge Venlar to a duel?”

Berra looks at Mellia in puzzlement. “Did someone say I was going to?” she asks, staying very still and hardly looking at Mellia.

“Varanis said you were angry enough to kill him. I can understand why, but he does have a point.”

“Varanis was wrong, then, or speaking wild air,” Berra replies. “I’d have sent someone to find a time if I wanted to fight him.” She winces as D’Val runs a loaded brush of cold mud up her back, and then puts her expression back to studied calm.

Mellia says,” I shall have to shout at Varanis extra next time. I was being quiet. Argh. Should I still get an apology from him?”

“About? Oh, right, that. No, but tell him he doesn’t know shi… sorry, Sword. Doesn’t know anything about the Colymar so he’s going to want to talk to me. Or Yehna. Pretty soon.”

“Temper your language, yess,” murmurs D’Val.

“I will see what I can do. Just keep in mind that you are rich now, so Yehna needs to wed with care.”

Berra pauses, and then says, “Yes. I should do that. She deserves someone who can match me.” The little Humakti looks determined, if maybe a little prideful.

Mellia asks,”Anyone in mind?”

“Not really. That’s a fertility thing. But I know all about how to ask.” Berra relaxes for a moment and then D’Val hefts a small bucket of cold water and throws it over her. She whimpers but manages not to flinch.

“Hmm. We should all sit down and talk about this, just as soon as you recover from pneumonia.”

“Sshe will not be allowed to die,” D’Val says reassuringly. “But she may nexst leave the Temple three days from now.”

Mellia says, “Thank you, Sword of Humakt.”

D’Val bows his head, or at least bobs his long neck down. “Isz that all you require from the Initiate?”

Mellia replies, “I think anything else can wait. Thank you for allowing me to speak with her.” Mellia bows deeply to D’Val.

This time his bow is just a nod, and he turns back to Berra. “Duelss do not count as warming exercise,” he says, “But non-metal armour countst as clothesz.” He seems to have said that before.

Mellia says, “Duels count as ignoring your healer.” She leaves before she starts a holy war.

Outside it is snowing steadily, far heavier than it ever does in Nochet. The streets are still half full, although as evening is here they are emptying rapidly. It is as cold as mid-winter at home.

Mellia thinks the inn is closest. She hurries there, hoping Venlar is still there.

Venlar is reading a scroll, which he rolls up as Mellia comes in. “Well, my love? Am I to survive?” He is an old hand at reading, and has a little tag left in the scroll to mark his place. It pokes out at both ends of the roll, an expensive dyed bit of thread.

“Berra is busy for the next three days. She told me to tell you that there are important things about the Colymar you don’t know yet. She didn’t say what they were.”

The door opens again and is hurriedly slammed shut behind the person entering into the warmth of the inn. Varanis stomps the snow off her boots and brushes it off her cloak. There will be puddles there soon.

“Rondrik, do you have a room free? I’m not heading back up to the palace in such a snow storm.”

“Yes, Thane,” Rondrik says, “But not the usual one. It’s a little smaller than you might like.”

Mellia says,”Hello, Varanis. What were you doing out in the snow?”

The Vingan gives Rondrik a nod of acceptance before turning to her cousin’s voice. “Mellia! Venlar! I’m glad you’re not out in this. The snow has become thick very suddenly.”

She takes a cup of hot wine and moves to join her kin.

Mellia gets out of her cloak. “You will never believe what Berra is doing.”

“Try me,” Varanis replies. She wraps her own cloak more tightly around herself, not yet ready to surrender its warmth. She doesn’t have a spouse to snuggle up to the way Mellia does.

Venlar does indeed snuggles Mellia closer.

Mellia snuggles with Venlar. “Berra is wearing almost nothing but woad and D’Val is throwing cold water on her.”

“I think she is doing conditioning. Things to make her stronger,” Varanis says after a moment. “I doubt they will kill her, as that would be wasteful.” An unusually pragmatic perspective from the Vingan.

Mellia says,”They won’t let her die, but she’s probably going to get sick.”

“I am sure they know what they are doing,” Venlar says. “Three days, you say? In that case, we must take that time to make Yehna as acceptable to young warriors and poets as we can.”

Varanis raises an eyebrow at him, then leans over to whisper loudly to Mellia. “Did you check that he still has all his bits?”

Venlar looks rather puzzled, which he manages to make suit him.

Mellia says, “We should talk to Yehna about this first, dearest love.”

“That will be part of the making her acceptable. Even if she does not marry, she should show well in Boldhome. She is one of us.” He could mean anything by that; Varanis’ people, his group of friends, the people who hang around Berra…

“Besides, we all need warmer clothes if it is going to be this cold through all of Dark Season,” Varanis adds. “I don’t really want to wear my Praxian garments in Boldhome. I’ll smell like bison again.”

“Yuck,” Mellia agrees. “I know just the merchant.”

Venlar says, “Shopping is a little different in the snow. A lot of merchants will have moved inside, of course, and of those who stay out, there will be tents and coverings. Still, this is the first fall of the season, and it will be a day before everyone decides where they want to be. Furriers will be common but their wares expensive.”

Mellia says,” I think the market is closed for the night. We can hope that the snow stops.”

“It will probably go on for a day or two,” Venlar says, “But it looks like we might have a light winter, from the omens. That at least will be good for Berra.”

Mellia looks happy at that. “In the meantime we can talk to Yehna and see what Colymar customs apply.”

Venlar looks briefly unsure, and then nods. “We can find commodious and enjoyable ways to keep warm as well. A surprising number of children are born in Dark Season.”

Mellia grins and chuckles. “I should check in with the hospital, but I want to keep this visit quiet.”

“You’re in white,” Venlar points out. “How will they notice you?”

Mellia muses,”If I wear gloves and hide my face, that’ll work.”

“Both of those are wise in the snow,” Venlar says evenly.

“Is there a reason why the tailor won’t come to us?” Varanis interjects, breaking out of her reverie. “I’m used to them coming to me when I want more than an item or two.”

“None,” Venlar says, “But they cannot bring their whole stock, and in the snow, they may wish to huddle down for customers. I admit I have never over-wintered in a city this large, or bought clothes in bulk.”

Mellia thinks. “I am used to going to her, and she has a stall. I can ask her if she can come over tomorrow.”

“Did we ever pay for my wedding dress?” Mellia adds.

“Hey! Rondrik!” Venlar calls across the room. “We will need some snow-sandals for Mellia.”

The innkeeper nods, and gets on with what he is doing. Venlar looks blank about the wedding dress. “It will have been drawn from my estates, surely? Mother will have seen to it.”

“I suppose I can go to her, but I don’t know that I want to be fitted or measured in a tent. Oh… measured.” Varanis looks uncertain. She glances down, then reaches for her wine again.

“She is used to such things. Her niece was a White Lady.”

Venlar stretches. “We can bring her here.”

“I…” Varanis swears, then rises. “Rondrik, where will I be sleeping? I’d like to see the room, if I may.” She manages a polite goodbye, before following Rondrik’s wife up the stairs.

The room is small, up under the roof. It is cozy and comfortable, however, as all the private rooms are. There is a tiny window for light, and a small brazier for heat. A rag rug keeps draughts and noise from below to a minimum, and the room is over the kitchen, so it never gets truly cold.

Downstairs, Venlar finally asks, “Where is Yehna, anyhow?”

As on cue the door opens and a small figure in a cloak slides in.

Venlar nods his head to the newcomer.

Mellia says, “I think that is her now.”

The tingling sound when she shakes snow from her brown hair tells it is Lenta.

She flashes a smile to Rondrik and Venlar and nods to Mellia.

Mellia says,”Hello, Lenta.”

“Hello, Mellia” the brunette answers while walking towards the stairs The weather is wonderful. So fresh. And all that snow.”

Venlar sips at his wine, letting the women talk.

Mellia says, “Too much snow for me.”

“More than ever in Nochet or Monros” Lenta agrees and vanishes upstairs.

“This is just the start of it,” Venlar says. “You will have to learn to wear plenty of layers, with wool next to your skin.”

Mellia says, “I will try to do that. I think my favorite dress merchant is still speaking to me.”


Yehna has Haran with her when she walks in from the stable, snow already mostly melted on her thick homespun cloak. The boy is attached to her by a sling, and deeply asleep, a little pointed hat keeping his head warm. Yehna gives Mellia a familiar smile and a nod. Venlar, now reading his scroll again, gets a brief look and no more.

Mellia whispers, “Yehna, we need to talk.” Mellia is trying not to wake Haran up.

Yehna slips onto a stool, and says, “Of course.” She is speaking quietly, but not whispering.

Mellia says,”My husband thinks you might appreciate suitors. We all need winter clothes.”

“I’m not sure I’m ready yet,” Yehna says. “But I can help you find clothes.”

Venlar glances up from his scroll and perhaps wisely looks down at it again.

Mellia nods. “Varanis and I will be thankful for your help shopping, Yehna. Do you think the market will be open tomorrow?”

“It depends on the weather. Something will be, but it might not be in the open.” Yehna leans down and kisses Haran’s brow. “I’ll be free in the morning without a child, and in the afternoon with one.”

“Does Haran need clothes? If he doesn’t, I think we should go in the morning.”

“No, I brought big clothes that I can put him into, over the smaller ones. Unless he grows a lot while he is here, he will be fine.” Yehna smiles down at the boy. “He does like the food, but he is running around looking at everything, so he is not going to get fat and big.”

Mellia smiles at Haran. “Then we can leave him behind to play. Varanis wants me to bring the tailor here, but I think we’ll do better at the market.”

“Walking is good, but buying warm clothes in the cold can be expensive,” Yehna notes. “You’re so tempted to just buy and get home.”

“Do you think we could get my favorite merchant to come here? Should we pick over the market and then choose a merchant?”

“Money always moves people,” Yehna points out, and gives Venlar a glance.

“I think I just felt my purse contract,” he says mildly. “But then again, I do love Mellia.”

“We represent a lot of clothes, my love. I just hope we’re not fleeced.” Mellia smiles at Venlar.

Venlar smirks. “That was truly terrible. It does not stop me from loving you.” He keeps his eyes on his reading.

Mellia says,” I love you too, sweetheart.”