Private Tales Winter Solstice at Castle Merrick

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Llewen Merrick

The Last Lord of House Merrick
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It was an auspicious day; it was the winter solstice, the shortest day of the year. The sun was just reaching its zenith as LLewen Merrick was finishing the rounds of patrolling the lands of his estate. They'd made some progress in the time since Princess Helia Glacies Kyxo had granted him his tax exemption, allowing him time to cultivate his land and prepare it for a hopefully bountiful harvest in the coming year. He reached the end of his territory by the old road that led to the capitol, looking around before turning his palfrey back around again. He stared somewhat solemnly towards the wooden castle his father had built, which this time a year ago, was completely abandoned, except for himself. Things were different now.

Llewen had expanded his realm to include another family of peasants to work the new land they'd cultivated, and his existing families got more land to work. Many hunters and frontiersmen appreciated the place to stay, and the furs they sold had provided Llewen with some much needed gold. It was enough to get the tools they needed, but also feed and arm an additional 8 men at arms, each with their own horses. In Mardania, it seemed, there were many who had lost much to wars and noble politics, many men who had naught but their swords, or tools, or even only the clothes on their backs, that weren't ready to give up just yet. These people were the spark that rekindled the flame of House Merrick. And it was these people that gave Llewen the first hope he felt in so many years since his parents were killed by orcs and he was left to manage the estate on his lonesome.

Today there would be a celebration for the solstice, where they took much of the perishable food and made a grand feast to help everyone settle into the harsh winters of Mardania. In the castle courtyard there were fires for cooking pots and many tables with hot food and drink ready for those who wished to partake. Stews, cheeses, fruits, and other foods were spread about, ready to fill the bellies of the small congregation that had gathered in Castle Merrick. It was nothing special, but such a celebration was sure to lift everyone's spirits, at least Llewen thought.

As he rode back, he thought of some of the people he'd met.

There was Asta Kondo, a blacksmith with a young daughter who had lost his wife in seemingly similar circumstances to Llewen's parents. He didn't know the full extent of it, but he was grateful for the blacksmith and the tools he had provided for his people in his short time being here, and Llewen was hopeful for the weapons and armor Asta might forge for him in time. Their conversations about life and--frankly, women--had been enlightening for Llewen and he was thankful to have a friend like Asta he could rely on.

There was Tabitha Pamona, a young woman about Llewen's age whose past was murky, but it seemed she had also lost so much. Her help in the stables had been invaluable, and the very horse he rode only survived because of Tabitha's work. Doubtless he was sure she would have helped with much of the festival today; it seemed she was always finding ways to be helpful, even if it seemed more and more dubious every day to Llewen that she was actually a commoner. He couldn't deny that he had feelings for her at this point, yet the unsure nature of their relationship and the possibility of her being part of a very-much-living noble house kept him from doing more than just spending time with her and enjoying her company. Having someone around his age around to befriend and converse with made him feel much less lonely.

Then there was Derugonia, a seemingly elven woman that was essential to revitalizing his land to grow the crops they would need to pay back their taxes. She had an otherworldly beauty to her that captivated Llewen, but she was here to grow crops and not entertain his interests, and Llewen intended to let her keep doing so undisturbed. Still, he felt a kinship with her that ran deeper than words--he could tell she had experienced some loss, too, though he knew not what or why. Still, her grace and her wisdom had been a source of comfort for his troubled soul, and he spent many hours out in the field with her simply speaking about life, and it was nourishing his soul.

He was nearing the castle now. His thoughts turned at last to Princess Helia, with whom things had been tense at their last meeting. He knew she was not one for sentimentalities, yet he still thought of her sitting on her lonely throne and was not content to sit idly. He'd sent a letter to her a few days prior, with a small invitation:

Your Highness, Princess Helia

I hope the winter has been kind to you and your court. I can report that House Merrick now has 8 men-at-arms prepared for combat, one-quarter of the amount promised for Her Highness. We have also set aside one-tenth of the amount of tax owed. There is much work yet to be done but so far our progress is swift and promising.

I would like to extend an invitation to Her Highness to attend my small Winter Solstice feast at Castle Merrick. I understand if Her Highness cannot attend, but would still like to meet again. Perhaps the next time I return to Mardus for my Paladin training, perhaps.

Finally, I hope you do not think too lowly of me after our last encounter. I am, as always, your humble servant, and if there is aught I can do to serve Mardania or the Lady Helia, you need only send word. My home, and my hearth, are yours to visit if you ever need refuge from the bustling court.

Your most humble of Knights,
Llewen Merrick

With that thought resting in his head, Llewen entered the castle courtyard, the sights and sounds of the feast filling his senses. He wondered if he'd see anyone today for the party; if not, he for once felt content, and maybe even happy, with the state of his lands, and with the people he had come to know in the last few months. At the sight of it all, he found himself smiling an undeniable, warm smile.
 
Tabitha could not offer much, so she offered services instead. Llewen wanted to have a feast of sorts, so she was there to help make it happen. She had spent her morning running from kitchen to courtyard, bringing food and supplies out.

Her stamina had improved drastically, and her frame had reached a more acceptable weight to it. No longer gaunt and helpless, she was finding her stride. She joked with the others as she ran about fixing this or that. Her laughter filled the air. She loved it here at Castle Merrick. She was finding it easy to get to know the other subjects, the hunters, the farmers. She appreciated them now, much more than she would have in her previous life.

She even decorated Spirit for the occasion, as Rosemary was out with Llewen currently. He had festive greenery woven into his mane and tail, as well as the treats she kept stealing for him. She giggled as the thought crossed that perhaps Spirit liked her even more than Landis at this point.

Tabby paused at a table, grabbing a tankard of mead for a few sips. She asked some of the others gathered if they needed anything even as they begged her to actually sit and enjoy herself.
 
Asta was no cook, but, unfortunately, he needed to figure out exactly where Miria had run off to. Festivals had never been his thing, more so from his past and the knowledge that when festivals grew into the night, that was when trouble happened. But Miria had no idea about brawling and being in a fighting ring, of suffering through bodily damage just to win enough money to last two weeks or the rest of the month before having to fight again. Miria only knew the joy and excitement of festivals, something her late mother had made sure would be enjoyable for their family. That was when Asta saw Tabitha, who had interacted with only a few times but Miria had interacted with her often, he made a beeline for her.

The hulking mass of a man who had turned himself into a blacksmith strode tentatively up to the table that was all women. He had never been the best around ladies, and despite Tabitha’s kind disposition, he had often only spoken to her about horseshoes and the like. Who knew what Miria talked to Tabitha about.

“Excuse me, Tabitha, have you by any chance… caught sight of Miria running around?” He murmured, his tone as soft and gentle as he could make it. He caught the way the other ladies looked at him. He wasn’t sure if their gaze was more similar to vultures around a piece of meat or that classic gaze of women telling a man to walk away and leave them to their own devices.

Tabitha Pamona
 
There was always so much festivity around the winter solstice. Derugonia had been around long enough to understand the human need for a halfway point, a celebration to mark the coming of something good. Winter had taken its toll on the land as much as their human spirits. The longest night of the year was worthy of celebration if it meant warm days would soon return and bring prosperity with them.

It was still something she would never quite feel accustomed to. She had attended many parties of this sort in the past, dining and dancing and then feasting on the dreams of drunks and eager children. Tonight she presumed it would be no different.

Except it was. Participating in the flurry and organized chaos of preparation was unavoidable. The alp had, after all, made the casual offer to help the maidstaff with things before she'd realized they had every intention of taking that help. As she had proven all too well in the past weeks, she was accustomed to hard work.

Stepping down from a ladder, Derugonia smiled at the hunter who had been observing and helping her hang garlands of evergreen clippings that they had spent the morning gathering from the surrounding forests. She adjusted her wide black hat, tipping it back so that she could look up at it as well.

"So? Will it suffice?" she asked him. The man shrugged and Derugonia sighed. That's what she got for asking a man. Left to her own judgement, she thought it looked fine. She handed him her tools and peeled off her gloves.

"I think it will. Take these back to the shed for me, and make sure the ladder returns to the stables. It will be missed when the horses need hay from the loft," she laughed. The alp put her gloves in a large basket atop the final cuttings and looped her arm through the handle. "Come down to the hall when you've finished; we've earned a drink and a spell by the fire after our morning trek."

He nodded and set off to complete his tasks, and Derugonia made her way to the hall. It already smelled delightful, the air crowded with dozens of mingling scents from herbs and meat to ale and smoke. She nodded to those she passed and went right to the hearth to begin lining the clippings across the mantle. Juniper and pine boughs, sprays of vibrant winterberry and chokeberry, and the rare flash of white holly.

There was chatter, and she listened in while she worked. She only turned when Asta entered, inquiring with Tabitha if she knew where his daughter was. She glanced between the smith and the table of women, particularly the lady with the russet hair. Lady Tabitha. Everyone's favorite, and deserving of that adoration. She was as gentle and kind as Derugonia was witty and reserved.

The gardener removed her gloves and wiped her hands on the front of her wool gown. She was fond of the smith's little girl because she was sweet and reminded her of her own daughters. Or, at least, reminded her of when they were small, before their teeth came in.

None of my business, she reminded herself. She was not here to make friends. Friends got close, and when people got close they found out what she was. And if anyone found out, she would be quickly finding a new home, and she liked this one. She wanted to stay here. Still…

She listened closely as she clipped and tucked sprigs of berries into the boughs.
 
Tabitha was chatting away with the women at the table. She fit in like a glove with nearly everyone. She only wanted to make everyone feel welcome in the castle, and try She did. There was happiness and cheer mixed in with the smells of meat and mead, and that was all she wanted.

Tabitha looked up from the gaggle of women and spotted Asta approaching. She liked the man, though she had yet to really get to know him. They chatted about the weather, about horses, and about Miria. She loved the little girl, she always took time to play with her when she could.

She grabbed a mug and approached him as she reached the table. "Asta! Glad to see you away from the forge!" She pushed the mug into his hand as he began to speak. Her smile quickly turned into a frown. "I haven't seen her, I'll help you look though." She gave him a worried look, and placed her own drink down. "When was the last time you saw her?" She would raise the whole castle into action if she had to.

Asta Kondo
 
Asta awkwardly took the mug, quite frankly anyone could hand him anything and he’d grab it, his apprentice days far behind him and yet still very much a part of him. It was just habit, take what was given to you and hold it until they asked for it back. He did briefly look into the mug, remembering the nights when he would get so wasted after a particularly grand win. It seemed like his words also caused Tabitha to worry and he frowned. He didn’t want to bother her. Especially not on a festival. She was quite young, he felt that— in a not-so-weird way— she was like an older sister sort. For Miria. Not him. He technically was old enough to be Tabitha’s father. And Llewen’s as well. Oh, what was he trying to get at?

No,” he rumbled softly, hearing the whispers of the women as they eyed him and then Tabitha. He took it as them judging his parenting skills. “No, it’s alright, Tabitha, I don’t… mean to inconvenience you. I was just curious if you’ve seen her.” Confidence was in his voice, something Asta had always been good at doing. He set the mug on the table. “I’m sure she’s just around exploring with Frederick,” Frederick was the pet rock Asta allowed Miria to keep after her begging for a pet to brighten up their new home.

A rock didn’t brighten up the home but it gave Miria a companion. A solid companion she could throw at someone if they bothered her. Asta felt it was just as good as a dog.

It’s fine, I’ll just ask around. Please, sit down. You’ve been working hard.” Asta said, side stepping as one of the ladies rolled her eyes at him. Did he say something wrong? He resisted shaking his head at the older woman and moved, stepping around the table and seeing Derugonia. Another woman Miria liked to talk to. She was quite impressed by Deru’s pink hair and wanted pink hair as well. Miria had frowned when Asta told her it was impossible.

Derugonia, I’m sorry to interrupt, but have you seen Miria by any chance?” He asked, clearing his throat a bit. A bit of shame was starting to enter now. How many more people would he need to bother?

Tabitha Pamona Derugonia