#artemaesia

[starsong-wra]

Fairy Tales Have Happy Endings

"This isn't a fairy tale."

"What do you mean?" Eilanne sat across from Artemaesia, her cool, callused fingers wrapped lovingly around the mage's small, warm hands.

"I mean that I'm not okay with this anymore. I've been waiting and waiting for him to come home. Eilanne, I thought that if I waited, if I was faithful and patient, it would all turn out alright in the end. But it hasn't. I'm tired of waiting. This isn't a fairy tale, where virtue wins out in the end. The truth of it is, he's not coming back, and while I'll never tell the twins otherwise, I don't even think he cares that he has children who don't even remember his face." There was bitterness and pain evident in Artemaesia's tone, her words sharp and cold, such a change from the person Eilanne knew her to be. She reached up and gently brushed her index finger beneath the mage's chin. The gesture was quite motherly in its intent, and Artie's tears began afresh.

"You want to know what I think?" Eilanne asked, smiling as she canted her head to the right, causing long, silken ebony locks of hair to slip over her shoulder. "I mean, truly, without any sugar-coating?"

"Of course I do," Artie sniffed. "You're the only friend I have who I think would tell it to me straight. Besides Luna, anyway." She hiccuped and reached for the handkerchief that lay upon her knee, using it to wipe away fresh tears. "Luna told me she'll, and I'm quoting her here, 'stab that heart-crushing yeti-fucker'."

Eilanne laughed, shaking her head. The beads and bangles that hung from her earrings tinkled merrily. "Ah, Lunasari. She adds color to the room, even when she's not in it herself. I believe she meant it, too." Eilanne paused, making sure she had Artie's full attention. "I hope that she does something to him. If he yet lives, he deserves to know that he did wrong by you."

Artemaesia's expression shifted into one of genuine surprise. "Truly?" she asked. The priestess nodded solemnly.

"Oh I know, I shouldn't advocate such things, but I'm not a priestess of the Light, either. I have trouble believing that the goddess would condone the treatment you've endured at the hands of such a careless man. If there is no justice to be had when a faithful, patient woman is finally broken, then there is no justice to be had in this world at all."

"Do you think it's alright that I just... consider things... over?" Artie asked her, twisting the handkerchief in her hands. "Without telling him to his face... without... knowing whether he lives? What if he's dead, and I scorn him for never coming back when it isn't exactly in his power to do so? What then?"

"Is the outcome any different, either way?" Eilanne rose from her seat and crossed to the fire, lifting the kettle from its perch and pouring two cups of steaming water. She pulled a small pouch from her belt and sprinkled the contents of it into each cup, then retied it before returning to sit across from her friend, offering the mage one of the cups.

"What's this?" Artie asked.

"A blend of dried herbs, my own tea concoction. Nothing too strong, but it should help you relax." Eilanne blew over her own cup, watching the steam waft away. "You didn't answer me before."

"Sorry." Artie held one hand over the steam rising from her tea, the heat and moisture gathering in her palm. "I suppose the outcome isn't the same. Perhaps it's best if I simply assume he's dead, regardless of the truth? Then I don't have to... to hate him so much."

"Do you hate him?"

"...not at all. That's the problem." Artie set her teacup down, and clasped her hands, pressing them to her chest. Eilanne thought this to be a touch dramatic, but let it pass. "I love him still, but it isn't the same as it was once. He was a good man, and I know he seemed to love the children when they were born...." More tears leaked from Artie's eyes. "I just don't want to be alone anymore, I don't want to have to avoid the company of others for the sake of propriety or the avoidance of temptation."

Eilanne's slender ears perked at this. "You've been tempted?"

Artie shook her head. "Not... not really. I've met a few who've been kind, but... I've never let myself believe anything was possible."

"Well, that should change now," Eilanne declared authoritatively. "I think you should move on, Artemaesia. Inarian was good to you, but he is no longer in your life. For whatever reason, he hasn't been found, and it's best to consider both him, and your commitment, gone." She reached out to pat her friend's hand gently, watching as more tears streamed from Artie's eyes. "Let him go, sweetheart. It's okay now."

And so Artemaesia did. She wept until her head ached and her eyes were dry and red, but at the end of it, the heaviness that had weighed upon her chest was gone. Eilanne followed her as she went to her room and, for the first time since he'd given it to her, she removed the golden engagement ring and its golden chain from around her neck, securing it in a small white box. She was about to place it in the bureau when the priestess reached out to stop her, shaking her head.

"How about I take that?" she asked. "You don't need the reminder. I'll keep it for you, in case you have need of it someday for some purpose, but it isn't wise to keep it with you."

"You're right." The mage nodded in agreement, her long crimson hair flipping forward to hang in her eyes until she brushed it aside with slender fingers.

"Now," Eilanne said, after tucking the box into her bag. She wrapped her arms around her young friend in a tight hug, stroking her head affectionately. "You told me before that your situation with Inarian wasn't a fairy tale, and I agree. However... that doesn't mean you still can't have one. So I want you to find your fairy tale, Artemaesia. I had one of my own until my Galadorn passed away, so I know it's possible." She smiled down at Artie as the little mage smiled up at her, nodding.

"Thank you, Eilanne. You really are a good friend to me."

"I try." The priestess winked. "Now, we probably should relieve Luna of babysitting duty. I've no doubt she loves it, but it makes the city officials nervous when the three of them are seen together without supervision."

[starsong-wra]

Just a short little thing...

Strong hands.

Warm skin.

Broad shoulders and lean muscle, painted with scars, little ridges that she traced in patterns with her fingertips.

His breath on her neck, words slipping from his lips to echo in her ear.

I love you.

I love you too--

Artemaesia started awake, gasping, one hand flying to her chest, pressed down over her rapidly beating heart. She couldn't help herself, turning to look at the empty space in the bed next to her, the pillow untouched. She glanced to the window, where the first muted rays of sunrise dared to peek past the split in the curtains. It had merely been a dream, another taunting, heart-wrenching dream. 

She tried to go back to sleep, but her mind was awake, spinning with thoughts of him, wondering if he was safe, if he even remembered her and their children. Eventually, she sat up again and swung her legs to the side of the bed, stepping onto the carpet and padding quietly to the door that connected to the twins' room. They'd grown so much lately, and she could already tell they would both be taller than she was. Inarian had been more than two heads taller than her measly five feet, but neither of them had minded. When he'd wrapped his arms around her post-lovemaking, she'd been warm and comfortable and had felt so incredibly safe... 

To Artie's surprise, both Parthius and Coralyn were awake, sitting up in the large, fluffy bed they shared and holding hands. Coralyn's long blonde hair hung about her shoulders in messy ringlets and her icy-blue eyes were wet with tears. Beside her, Parthius was just as upset, but he seemed more concerned for his younger-by-three-minutes sister.

"Parth?" Artie crossed the room in a hurry, gathering the long skirt of her silk nightgown up about her knees and climbing onto the bed, settling between her little ones. "What's wrong?"

"Bad dream, Mama," he said, his free hand reaching out to rest on Artie's forearm, seeking comfort from the one constant presence in his young life.

"Oh, Cora," Artie murmured, pulling her little girl up and into a hug. Parthius cuddled up closer, keeping hold of his sister's small hand as she cried into their mother's hair. "Parth, my love, do you know what the dream was about?"

The boy's ginger head bobbed a few times in the affirmative. "She had a dream about Dad." Artie paused in her stroking of her daughter's hair.

"A dream about... him?" she asked. Parthius nodded again. "What made the dream bad?" 

Coralyn spoke up then, her voice soft and choked with her tears. "He told me he didn't love me," she whimpered.

"Coralyn," Artie said at once, gently pushing Cora back until she could look into her daughter's eyes. "Your father loves you, he always has, and he always will. No matter what happens, or whether he ever comes back home... he loves you. Hear me?" She glanced at Parthius to be sure he understood, too. He bobbed his head in earnest. "Good." Artie pulled them both close again, nuzzling their delicate, slender ears and kissing their noses and foreheads until Cora's tears dried.

"Now, who wants some breakfast?"

[kendoranel-blog]

This one's for Farwyn: Did you child-proof your home? And I mean -really- child-proof it? Not just hiding your weapons (I do thank you for that) but your shiny valuables? My twins, Light bless them, are adorable and wonderful, but they are also good at terrorizing small animals, and things that are breakable. Just... just thought I should warn you. -Artie

Farwyn paused in the kitchen, having been in the process of collecting precious supplies to make Artemaesia one of his favorite sandwiches. The cupboard was still open, his hand still upon the nob as he turned to look over his shoulder at her with a freezing expression. 

"You mean, there… there’s more I need to take away?" He replied dumbly, her words just now sinking in. He released his hold on the cabinet’s handle and turned to face her, brow knitted with thought. A large hand raised up to his chin as he curled his fingers, perplexed as he went over in his head exactly all he had done. 

"Yea, the weapons are locked away and I made sure there weren’t any sharp corners." He nods with his eyes looking to the distant room, hinting at the dining table which now had neatly rounded corners. Farwyn continued to frown though, sucking in a slow breath.

"I have… some stuff around. Are paintings okay? I have a few of those. I think there’s a vase upstairs in the guest room. Uh… my money is in my room, but I can keep the door locked. The cellar has…uh, jars. Those are shiny." He raised a hand to rub the top of his head, disheveling his unruly hair and glancing around to look for any more clues. Eventually he gave up and let out a graveled sigh in defeat. 

"Maybe you should help me wi-" His eyes suddenly widened at the idea of small children exploring all over the estate. There had been a definite, distinct place he had forgotten to lock up. He immediately looked around with a panicked expression before he rose a single finger towards Artemaesia.

"I will be right back." 

He didn’t dare tell her that he had forgotten to move his slightly unruly wolf to a more “secure” location. 

[kendoranel-blog]

Change

I’m giving myself one more day. One more day and then I’ll officially declare that I’ve done as much as I can do and then I’ll tell her that they can move in. I thought I would be ready yesterday, but I didn’t realize how, uh, relatively dirty some stuff was in the house. I’m not one to leave a huge mess, but the guest rooms I hadn’t gone into for awhile were dusty. Not to mention I forgot how many weapons I actually had and… well, let’s just say it’s an odd mixture of both pride and embarrassment.

Maybe a part of me is worried that my home looks a little run down too. It isn’t in my opinion, well… I mean, it was but I’ve worked on it for several years now by myself. Again, it is a pride thing. I told myself that I would restore my family’s place with my own hands. It’s a way to pay tribute to them in a way since I didn’t get to bury their bodies. It is odd though how a simple thing such as uprooting the floor and putting in something new brings back memories.

Anyway, it’s a good place. It’s pretty big and has plenty of land. It isn’t incredibly fancy and I don’t have an active family to keep pouring money into it like some fancy noble, but it works. It used to have eight small bedrooms on the second floor, but I’ve broken down some of the walls so that there are four now. I figured Artemaesia and her children can take the far rooms on the northside, which are close to each other and I’ll move myself to the south room. That way I won’t wake them either if I have to get going in the morning.

… It’s strange to think there will be kids in this house again.

I’m not quite sure what I’m doing, to be honest. A week ago I was just doing just fine keeping to myself and doing what I always do. Then suddenly I have a woman wanting me to teach her and putting up a damn good case for it to the point where I’m actually considering it. Plus even more surprisingly, I’m having someone stay in my home along with their children. I’ve spent the day and a half cleaning like some worried… maid because I don’t want one of the little tykes hurting themselves on a sword or falling down the stairs. My storage room is completely full and yesterday I bought a new bed, because I was worried the old one wasn’t soft enough.

I mean… I’m not regretting my decision. There is no way in fel that I would ever stand by and let a nice lady and her children stay to the whims of the city’s Inns. That would just be wrong. Completely and utterly wrong. Especially not after all she’s gone through and while I won’t look down on her like a charity case, I’m at least going to try to make them comfortable here.

Now I just need to find a step ladder because to be completely honest, Miss Artemaesia is very short. I contemplated moving all of the food to the counter or the bottom drawers, but she might notice it. She’s an intelligent woman and I have a suspicion that if she’s actually insulted, she really would spread around the Sir Inksalot name.