Completed Blood is thicker than...Paint?

The city of Vel Anir loomed above, built for war but bustling with the energy of a new republic. Even though the sun was only just coming up, many workers were already up and about preparing for the new day.

Alistair had been away in his own thoughts when he looked down to see Mariana was awake. Thankfully, the young girl was tiny, so it had not been difficult to ride with her at night. Even with the speed they moved, the girl was so tired from the day's events that she had not been bothered.

"Yes, this is Vel Anir. You're new home."

The family estate in the countryside was filled with parasites that were much of the extended family. He would instead keep Mariana with him and his mother.

Many of the noble houses were set in a district up ahead, but Alistair turned off to a side road that seemed to be going relatively unnoticed. While the houses on the street were not destitute, they looked far more middle-class.

Mariana
 
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And to Mariana it looked very fine, indeed. The lower class houses in Vel Anir would still probably seem like unusually fine to her. Because she’d always scraped out a small spot on a rooftop or hammock in a tucked away alley. And she’d always hopped from small town to small town. Perhaps one midsized town. But from her perch on the saddle?

Rooftops and streets just seemed to keep going and going. This. Place. Was. Huge. And the size made her feel nervous and better at the same time.

“It’s amazing,” she breathed. Already thinking of a scene she wanted to paint. Head turned as she tried to look at everything. A fruit market that was about to open. Shops and lines of shops. A few beggars on the streets. She eyed them cautiously.

“How…um, how many other people do you live with?” Was he married? Did he have kids of his own? Other siblings? Would the other family members…hate her? A bundle of nerves was expanding in her belly.
 
"At the moment? Two, my mother runs the house along with a single servant. However, it is largely the singular servant doing the work as my mother is finding it more and more difficult to get around...Please, don't cause her any trouble, or we will have a problem."

As he explained this, they need a two-story abroad that was connected to a small store next to it. Both buildings looked nicer than others buildings on the street as it looked like they had recently been painted, but when looking past the paint, it became clear that the wood and stone beneath had seen better days.

The store itself was closed and would likely not be opening up anytime soon. Alistair tried to work the shop when he could, but he was not free at the moment and no one else manned the shop, for now.

"Welcome to your new home."

Alistair stopped Feldaris directly in front of the home where next offered to help her off. A stable near by was likely where war horse was kept. A shame, that such a noble creature was limited to accommodations such as these.

Mariana
 
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"I won't," she said smally. Mariana was not one to antagonize people. Unless they antagonized her first. And a small part of her was jealous that Alistair still had his mom. She really missed her madre. She'd never admit it or show it. Because weakness got one killed on the streets.

But she really did.

Accepting her brother's help, she slid off Feldaris. Walking to the tall horse's side, she wrapped her arms as far as they would go around his neck. A whisper up to him, "You are the most handsome, magnificent horse I know and I'm going to paint a picture of you one day soon." Finally releasing him, she'd rub her hand down his neck, giving him a light pat before stepping back. An anxious look to her brother.

"Do you think your mom will hate me?"

If she did, Mariana would have no qualms about running away, even with that threat her brother had said before leaving Vel Lameus.
 
Alistair was busy calling over a young boy who seemed familiar with Alistair. The boy trotted over and took the reigns of Feldaris, leading him away to the stables.

Finally back to the matter at hand, Alistair paused as he thought precisely how to answer her question. For once, Alistair looked annoyed or maybe disturbed by how to answer this question...or was it just anger?

"No, she won't hate you. My mother is only recently beginning to recover from...and unfortunate few years, she can be strange. Once you get to know her, then you will get used to it."

Alistair stepped up to the door, but before he could open the door it was already opened by an older-looking woman with greying hair with a small scowl.

"You did not tell us you were leaving. Had your mother worried sick."

"My apologies Mrs. Hursh. It was a spur of the moment."

The older woman just rolled her eyes at the excuse before letting them both in.

"Your mother is in the parlor...Who is this? Finally getting another servant?" She asked hopefully.

"No, Mrs. Hursh please prepare the guest room. This is Mariana...she is my sister." He looked to the maid pointedly before turning to move towards the parlor.

The made looked surprised at the sudden announcement, but then slowly turned her eyes on Mariana with a look of pity. She hurried off to perform her duties.

Mariana
 
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To Alistair this may have been a rundown house that had seen better days. To Mariana it was grand. And she couldn’t help the small half step she took behind her brother’s long legs when the maid answered the door. Hand instructively went to clutch the few pieces of colored charcoal she still had in her pocket. More for comfort than anything.

A careful wipe of her threadbare boots on the front mat as they entered.

Head tilted as she gawked at the walls and few tapestries. She scurried to catch up to Alistair, still staying partially behind him as they entered the parlor. There was a large bowl of fresh fruit one of the side tables. Her mouth immediately watered even as she peeked out from behind Alistair at the woman she presumed was his mother.
 
The woman that was Natasha Krixus was a beautiful woman even at her age with barely a mark on her. One of the few benefits of being used as a doll wife for the past several years. It was clear to see where Alistair got his skin and hair color, but the similarities did not reach their eyes.

Alistair's eyes were sharp cold and calculated in everything they did, his piercing eyes staring daggers at whatever he chose to focus on. Natasha's eyes were scattered, staring off into a far-off distance that no one could see. It was almost like she was coming out of some long-lasting sleep, which in a way, she had.

However, the far most important thing about Natasha's appearance was the baby bump she nurtured in her soft, heavily padded chair. She smiled warmly at the arrival of her son, and then slowly her eyes trailed to Mariana, but it was like she was looking right through her.

"Oh, Alistair. I've missed you so much. You should not go running off like that, you could get hurt."

She never asked about Mariana, instead choosing to just continue looking at her.

Mariana
 
Mariana stayed peeking out from behind Alistair. An unsure look crossed over her still paint-smudged face as she looked between the woman and her brother. Was there a hint of anger in Alistair's eyes?

She'd picked up on it when she'd asked him about his mother outside just before they'd entered. She'd assumed it had been for her, though, in her mind she'd done nothing wrong. But perhaps it was anger at his mother. No. Anger at something about his mother?

Maybe something done to her?

He'd said his father wasn't a good man, so Mariana could only imagine what the woman before her had endured. What Alistair had possibly endured. Not that her own life had been sunshine and roses. It had been for about five years, when her mother had been alive.

But the rest?

She'd been on her own, careful in who she trusted - if anyone at all. Until Alistair had made her come with him.

"Um, hello," she said quietly. Unsure of what to do or say. If anything at all. Fingers lifted, tucking her short, dark strands behind one ear.
 
Natasha held out a hand beckoning Mariana forward, all the while never breaking eye contact with her. She slowly leaned forward sitting straight up in her chair.

Alistair reached back and slowly put his hand on Mariana's back urging her forward. He reassured her with a soft smile before speaking.

"Mother this is Mariana...She is from Vel Lameus and she..."

Natasha cut off her son in between one of his pauses while glancing at him with disproval.

"Your sister, though not by me. You can sit. It is unbecoming to fumble over an introduction."

As Mariana would come closer, Natasha's far-way look would suddenly focus in on her, looking far more like her son than she had just moments before. However, a soft smile spread on her face.

"Did you not think I would not see Amadeus in her? I spent far more of my life with him than you did."

The words might sting any other child in reference to their father, but Alistair and Natasha both knew that what she had said was not a boon but a curse to her.

Mariana
 
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Mariana suddenly became self-conscious of her threadbare clothing that had never bothered her. Fingers lifted fussing with her hair as she inched forward. She cast another uncertain look to Alistair before her timid gaze went back to Natasha.

"I've never met a Lady before," she whispered. "Nice to meet you," was she supposed to curtsy? Bow? She tried to curtsy. 3/10.

"Amadeus? Oh," she said quietly. Putting two and two together. The father that she should probably be grateful not to meet. Eyes couldn't help but drift to the baby-bump. So she would soon have another sibling on the way.

Eyes drifted to the pot of tea next to Natasha and a little three tiered plate of mini sandwiches and tea cakes. "May I...excuse me ma'am. Ahem, Lady, would you mind if I had one?" She pointed to one of the sandwich quarters, her mouth watering and stomach grumbling.

What?! She couldn't help it.

She was so used to eating whenever she saw food because she never knew when the next meal would come. And she was hungry.
 
Natasha just looked down at the girl with a soft smile, but also a hint of sadness. She held no ill will towards Mariana, but the situation as a whole. No woman enters a marriage expecting to meet her husband's bastards, or at least, she had not.

Alistair stepped forward beginning to tell Mariana that they would eat later, but Natasha stopped him with a look. She reached over and grabbed the plate of food. Natasha handed over the plate as she painstakingly got to her feet.

"You may have them as long as your promise to eat the feast we have prepared."

Alistair quickly moved to help her up with a frown on her face. "Mother, there is no food prepared as of yet. I did not tell Mrs. Hursh about our guest."

Natasha waved her hand dismissively as she waddled towards the kitchen. "Then that just means I better get started."

Mariana
 
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Mariana chewed on her lower lip, still looking uncertainly between Alistair and Natasha. This was not the interaction she’d expected. She’d expected cold indifference at best. Natalie’s warmth in lieu of the situation reminded her of her own mother.

Alistair was very lucky.

Mariana cradled the plat of little sandwiches. “You don’t have to,” voice trailed off as she held up one of the little sandwiches. “This IS a feast.”

There was no humor in her small voice when she said it. It was clear she was being completely serious. A worries look to Alistair. Has she messed up already?

Gaze flickered to the door even as she clutched the plate. Anxiety building and making her want to run.
 
Natasha ignored the girl as she continued on to the kitchen, her voice echoed from the kitchen along with the sounds of things moving around.

"First thing we do, Alistair, is teach this girl what a proper meal looks like. She is all skin and bones."

Alistair sighed as he motioned for Mariana to follow him as he moved to the doorway of the kitchen. Inside, Natasha was beginning to the process of cooking, but she seemed slow and sometimes hesitant.

"When was the last time you cooked, mother?"

The woman frowned like she had trouble remembering, before she said, "Well, it is likely like riding a horse. Once you learn you never forget."

Alistair was about to ask when was the last time she rode a house, but never got the chance as Mrs. Hursh stepped into the kitchen. "I leave for a few minutes and this happens. You two get out. I will help Natasha with the cooking." Hursh said as she pointed to Alistair and Mariana. She did not have to say to Alistair that she would make sure the food tasted good and that Natasha did not hurt herself.

Mariana
 
Mariana did not follow Alistair. She stood frozen like an Anirian deer on the farming fields. When he turned to follow his mother in the kitchen, she stuffed a few sandwiches in her pocket. One quickly in her mouth before setting the plate down. Ringing her hands, she kept glancing between the door and between the open kitchen.

She assumed Alistair would be furious with her. So, she edged behind a high back chair, peeking out. Alistair blocked the door. But there was a half open window right next to her that she could probably scramble out of if needed. The problem was her brother’s magic. She’d seen how fast he was.

What couldn’t he do?

He hadn’t hurt her yet so why did she expect he would?

“Don’t be mad at me,” she blurted out, peeking from her cover. Hand dipped in her pocket past the sandwiches and around the charcoal.
 
Alistair backed away as he was kicked out of the kitchen by the maid. The worry was clearly written on his face whenever it came to dealing with his mother in any way. She had begun to act more like the mother he remembered, but there were those moments when she suddenly looked lost. Like Natasha was just a memory of what she had once been.

Alistair was thrown from his own thoughts as Mariana yelled at him, and he turned to her with a raised eyebrow. He had not noticed her moving to hide behind the chair.

"Mad? What am I supposed to be mad at?" No anger or irritation, just genuine confusion.

"For the food? She wasn't going to finish them. We keep urging her to eat, but she pecks at food like some bird. If she isn't going to eat them, then you might as well."

Mariana
 
Brightly-colored haired head shook.

"I didn't mean....she didn't have to do anything special," she mumbled. "Make a big meal." She made no move to come out from halfway behind the chair. A cool breeze from the half-open window tickled her skin. She took a small, steadying breath.

"I can tell how much you love her." A quiet admittance. And it was clear that Mariana was...overwhelmed. A lot had happened since meeting her brother. He'd surprised her. She'd almost died by rogues. Kinda-sorta. The city she knew and her surroundings all gone. All changed.

And everyone in this house was new.

It was clear she didn't trust easily, perhaps the only exception was Alistair when he'd promised not to sell her or lock her up somewhere. But she'd seen a lot of sides to him: a caring side with his mother, a violent side, and a protective side. She just hoped she'd never get on the middle one.
 
Alistair nodded along like he was trying to understand where she was coming from, but he could only chuckle softly. He glanced back in the direction before moving to take a seat in one of the free chairs.

"There isn't much either of us could have done to stop her. She feels like she missed out on being a mom for a long time, so sometimes she just gets like this. You did nothing wrong...I think she sees little you and sees an opportunity for redemption."

He reached over to the tea that remained there and poured himself a glass.

"It will be fine. Mrs. Hursh will look after her."

Mariana
 
He still didn’t seem mad. The tension in her small shoulders began to unwind. Just a little. A small breath. The furniture in here seemed too grand for her to sit on, even though to Alistair it might just be average.

So, she chose to sit against the wall, just beneath the window. It made her feel safer. Like, if she needed an out she had it. Half obscured by the furniture, she was able to peek out at her brother enjoying tea.

“When is she due?” That baby bump.
 
Alistair looked from pouring his drink with a raised eyebrow. He shot a glance to the doorway and then took a moment to think.

"Not entirely sure, but the doctors believe her to be due in about three months."

There was a far more uncomfortable fact that Alistair had not been around when the baby was conceived, and his mother was not in the headspace at that time to remember exactly when it was conceived.

"It could be sooner though, maybe two and a half months."

When the child finally did arrive, Alistair would have to pay for another servant, something the family coffers were not set to handle, at the moment.
 
Knees pulled up to her chest, arms encricling them. She couldn't help but looking around the room again, from her position. Alistair's mom seemed amazing. At least so far. Especially considering the circumstances. Alistair was Alistair. And Mrs. Hursch also seemed like she wouldn't suddenly be violent toward Mariana.

Still, the girl couldn't help but ask her brother.

"So...I'm safe here?"

No one was going to hurt her here? She had to be sure. Lips scrunched together and her arms tightened around her legs as she waited for an answer.
 
Alistair seemed to relax into the chair, and his usually stoic facial expression softened to show a hint of understanding.

"No, you won't be hurt here. We will look after you...but I can't make that promise to the outside world...I can teach you how to protect yourself from them though, but no need to rush into that. For now, focus on getting some food and rest."

He would not bring up the fact that by tomorrow, he planned on having Mrs. Hursh begin Mariana's lessons on reading and writing. Those were the foundations that everything else would branch out from.

Mariana
 
Mariana considered him for a long while. But her tight fingers that circled around her arms and legs finally relaxed a little. A quiet nod. He was being kind and it baffled her. Most others weren't kind to beggars on the streets. There were always they few rare people who gave or took pity on her. Which was why she learned to switch from begging real quickly.

Dark brows furrowed as she thought about her brother.

Mrs. Hursch came in with her hands on her hips, looking at Mariana. "Child, what are you doing on the floor?" A mildly scolding look to Alistair. "The both of you should wash up. At the rate Natasha is going dinner will be ready any moment. Would you show her where to go?"

Mariana's brows raised as she looked down at her hands. Just a little dirt and old paint flecks. This was actually pretty clean to her. Such strange city customs.
 
Alistair sighed at the scolding, seeming to take it in stride. Many in the city would be hesitant to scold a Dreadlord, but Mrs. Hursh seemed to have no such qualms. Alistair shot Mariana a wink and motioned for her to follow him up the stairs.

The next floor seemed to largely be where the Krixus family lived. There were four rooms, one was clearly the master bedroom, while a smaller one had a simple bed with no other decorations. The next was a small room that seemed to be an office. Finally, the last room was the bath.

Alistair guided Mariana to the bath and as he stepped in, he placed his hand on a rune that not only started the bath but seemed to be heating the water.

"Wash up here. I'll try to find you some clothes...might be a little boyish though."

Mariana
 
Curious gaze darted around the second floor as she followed Alistair up. And again, everything seemed grand. It was a solid roof with entirely different rooms. Carpets. Comfortable looking beds and blankets.

Indoor heated water!

"But I like my clothes," she grumbled, looking down at the odds and ends she wore. Certainly well-worn. But she'd spruced them up a little with her own paintings and designs that had faded over time. And they were certainly dirty, though not in Mariana's eyes.

Fingers hesitantly reached out and went under the water, expecting it to be frigid.

"It's warm," she marveled looking to her brother. "You must have the best magic in the whole wide world!" Not a shy exclamation.
 
Alistair raised an eyebrow as he looked over the clothes that Mariana was wearing. They were...not up to standard. If she wanted to keep them then he would allow it, but they would be cleaned.

"You may keep them if it is sentimental, but you will receive a new wardrobe...The clothes will also need to be cleaned. If it is about the art, then you will have plenty of actual canvas for that."

He was having trouble understanding her amazement at everything. His entire life he had seen how the elite live, enough to know how far away they were from it even though they technically belonged there because of his name. It all felt like a lie.

"No, it is a simple spell. One of the earliest forms of fire magic that can be taught. I just made it consistent with a rune."

Mariana
 
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