Chapter 13: "Mother"
Lady Brielle was embroidering when Helaine descended from her room. The simple four-poster bed and its flea-ridden sheets, though itchy and rough compared to her blankets on Dondar, had done more to calm her nerves than even seeing her father had. The older woman's fine hair was knotted carefully in the intricate tradition of all married woman. Helaine wondered how long it took her to do that every morning.
The royal couple had stayed up late with Helaine the past night, listening attentively to her somewhat edited tales of the Diadem. And while Helaine felt groggy, and Lord Votrin hadn't even yet risen from his bedchamber, the Lady Brielle seemed hardly affected. Garon tottered in, a shade later, and his mother kissed his forehead in a quiet, loving manner. Helaine stared unabashedly, filled with some sort of jealousy. Excusing herself quietly, she wandered around the castle until she found herself in the long portrait hall.
Stern faces of the past, blackened as age ate away at the varnish, gazed impressively with a certain amount of pomp at some unknown heyday. Here was Garmor the Ox and the legendary Hrothlac. Ingrid, mother of the first Lord Votrin, Ketil the Stalwart, stared down her long straight nose as Helaine passed by. Finally, she came to the end of the hall, where hung the most recent portrait.
The woman's clothes were dark, and so were the curtains she sat before, but her eyes were bright and laughing, delighted with her secrets. Her lips were just twitched in an impish smile, and her cheeks were flushed with wonder. Helaine reached out to touch the painting, and fully expected to feel the silk of her gown.
"He captured her fantastically, didn't he?" Helaine whirled around, startled, instinctively reaching for her sword. It was merely her father, rumpled in his nightclothes, with a grim smile dampening his face. "Her eyes were exactly like that. Impulsive. Feral." Helaine looked again at the almond eyes, entranced for a moment.
"Tell me about Mother."
Lord Votrin tore his gaze away from the likeness of his first wife and looked at the daughter of the woman in the painting. The girl - woman - he corrected himself, was tall and more sullen than her mother, and carried the Votrin chin and temper. His head felt heavy, yet he rose to the challenge and obeyed her request.
"She loved...she loved life. She was fifteen when I married her, young and alive and brilliant. She died when you were still nursing. It was the second year of the white death. Votrin Keep had been left well enough alone, but one winter it leapt upon us like a wolf. Many of us took ill. She...she never stopped for a minute, but she bustled around the castle with hot water and herbs of this or that nature. She entered the quarantined rooms and read passages from the Book and prayed with them when the fastidious religious would not. It was a miracle, that she stayed in good health as long as she did." Lord Votrin eyed the lady in the painting again, and stayed quiet so long Helaine almost thought he'd forgotten. "She woke up one morning, and couldn't rise. She was dead within six hours." His voice was flat.
Helaine didn't respond. There was no point in saying that she had absolutely no recollection of the sweet-faced woman in the painting. Instead, she had memories of pretending that her mother had never really died, that she'd been captured by some ogre or dragon, and someday, Helaine and her father would ride out and rescue her, and she would run to Helaine and tell her how much she loved her. She had longed and longed for her mother until the pain subsided to a dull ache, tempering the flavor of her dreams. Helaine thought to relate this to her father, but something stopped her.
"I cannot stay long," she murmured instead. Lord Votrin rounded on his daughter, forgetting those haunting eyes for a moment.
"Why not?" He demanded.
"I have...someone waiting for me to return. I have another life, father. I no longer live here." Helaine hardened. There was nothing for her on Ordin, and there never had been.
"I lost you for five years, and now I must say goodbye? You have grown cruel, daughter. But you are a warrior to the bone, aren't you?" Before Helaine could respond haughtily, he reached out and touched her arm. "In the name of the House of Votrin, I bless you on your journey." Helaine stiffened. It was the traditional farewell to the questing thanes.
"May your house be blessed under God." The reply slipped from her lips. Looking older than she'd yet seen him, her father smiled bitterly.
"I hope that when you find what you're looking for, you return." He paused once more, and then, with a nod to the portrait, added "you know that you are my daughter. You just need to prove to yourself that you are hers, too."
Helaine stared at her father. There was a catch in his voice, but she dared not open it.
******
Eh. A shorty, I know. But I also know I won't get the chance to update for awhile... crappy school.
Anyway, enjoy, and don't ask me why Helaine is so tempermental. She's seventeen and being quite girly. What do you expect?
Aroo!
Chapter 1. Morning
Chapter 2. Changes
Chapter 3. Last Night
Chapter 4. White Monkey
Chapter 5. Searching
Chapter 6. Child
Chapter 7. One Candle
Chapter 8. Crow
Chapter 9. Dorian
Chapter 10. Ordin
Chapter 11. Votrins
Chapter 12. Gone
Chapter 13. Mother
Chapter 14. Mardren
Chapter 15. Scars
Chapter 16. Tears
Chapter 17. Mend
Chapter 18. Summons
Chapter 19. Council
