Pretty ordinary. I was playing more BKO and they make the whole Almarde/Lyuvann thing pretty explicit, what with referring to Almarde as a paramour. XD So I wrote this little thing about more Almarde and Lyude, how hard it must have been for her to care for her child but pretend he's not hers, or something like that. 'Cause she had to cater to Camilla (aka Lyuvann's wife, so you know), Skeed, And Vallye's bitchyness. I figured Skeed and Vallye got their bitchiness from their Mama and characterized her as such.
Little Lyude was fun to write. XD He's very wiggly in my head.
Almarde knelt patiently beside the little red haired boy who was squirming as he chattered away. It wasn't uncommon for him to have a great deal to tell Almarde by bedtime, as no one really paid him much mind during the day. He'd done a fine job of getting his nightshirt tangled in all sorts of ways, one arm with the sleeve at the forearm, and the other with the sleeve flapping over his hand. He'd gotten stuck while attempting to pull the shirt over his head, so his face was hidden; all she could see was a skinny little boy belly and flailing arms.
The maid listened intently to his story, for no unruly article of clothing would stop him from finishing it, and gently began to tug the shirt into place. Soon, a bright red head popped through the neck of the shirt. He looked up at her with his large, innocent eyes and smiled. His smile was most adorable, as he'd lost his first tooth recently, leaving a comical gap in his grin. This made Almarde sad, though, because she suspected Skeed had knocked the tooth out before it was ready. She'd known, from Lyude's chronicling of his day each night, that that little baby tooth had only been the slightest bit wiggly, yet the next day it had inexplicably gone from his mouth. Judging by the amount of the bleeding and how hard Lyude had cried, Almarde knew it was the result of foul play. Despite this, Lyude had tried very hard to convince her he had just wiggled it a whole lot- all day- and it came out on its own.
"And then- and then-" He began, a common segue into another story. But Almarde hushed him, smiling warmly.
"Hush now, Lyude!" She said calmly with a laugh, one that Lyude liked because it was friendly and not mean like Vallye or Skeed's. "It's time to sleep now. Save that story for tomorrow."
"'Kay." Lyude agreed, standing from the floor and scrambling into his bed. Skeed and Vallye, who were sitting obediently in their own beds reading, rolled their eyes and exchanged a thank-goodness-that-racket's-stopped face. Almarde spotted these exasperated looks but pretended she hadn't and tucked Lyude in.
"Goodnight, my little boy." Almarde leaned down and kissed Lyude's forehead, and he smiled and snuggled deeper into his blankets with eyes squeezed shut, as was ritual. Lyude liked it when Almarde kissed him on the head, because he felt warm and happy. And when she said goodnight her voice sounded warm like a glowing fire. A second later his eyes popped back open.
"Lights out!" He reminded her in a squeak, his small voice muffled under his blanket.
"Yes," She laughed. "Skeed, Vallye, lights out now, please." Neither replied but roughly placed their books on a bedside table and violently clicked their lamps off. Almarde smiled once more at Lyude, who was already half asleep with droopy eyelids, and began towards the door of the children's bedroom. Suddenly, Camilla appeared in the doorway without a sound, like a vengeful and silent spirit. Her dark auburn hair was up and styled like always, and her sharp, pinched face held its usual miserable frown. Camilla was a woman that was probably very beautiful at one time in her life, but years of scowling and fretting left her looking wrinkled and cruel. She held one hand always hovering above her heart, spindly fingers usually holding onto a handkerchief or dangling over a brooch on her collar.
"Don't you think Lyude's old enough to dress himself?" She asked, not bothering to hide the sour note to her voice. Camilla didn't look at Almarde as she spoke, but stared into the dark room, at the shapes of sleeping children.
"Oh, I don't mind doing it." Almarde replied happily, keeping her voice low so that she wouldn't disturb the children as they drifted off to sleep. "It's really no trouble-" Camilla cut her off, very much determined to get her point across.
"He's already seven years old." Wrong. Wrong- Lyude had just turned six. "Skeed and Vallye could put themselves to bed at that age." Her voice was haughty, ringing with boastful pride. "You should try letting him dress by himself from now on." Almarde held her tongue, an objection threatening to fly out into the open. Lyude was a clearly clumsy child, who was more likely to sleep in his formal clothes than put on his pajamas properly. Dressing Lyude at night was also a special time for Almarde. Dressing him, tucking him in- those were things she loved. They were things she wanted for herself, things a mother would do instead of clean and cook and run errands as the mistress ordered her. Performing such mundane things as tucking the boy in reminded Almarde of a simpler time, of when Lyude was a baby and she had him almost all to herself. But Camilla clearly hated Almarde, because she saw how Lyuvann looked at her, how he treated her. Camilla was bitter and wanted revenge on both Almarde and the son that was her husband's, but not hers.
These things raced through Almarde's thoughts, but she forced them away into the recesses of her mind. She couldn't protest. She couldn't defend her child, who knew no kindness other than what she offered him. If she misspoke, Camilla could easily have her sent away, whether Lyuvann consented or not. The family had a reputation to withhold, after all. An unruly maid would look terrible to the neighbors. And if she were taken away, sent away to some other house, Lyude would be all alone, getting his teeth kicked out and without a kind ear to listen to his stories.
"Of course, ma'am. I'll let him alone tomorrow night." Almarde replied quickly, so that response she wished to give didn't escape, bowing her head before whisking past her lover's wife. Camilla glanced back at her retreating form, feeling a twinge of joy to see the young maid's posture bent in sad reflection. Camilla then went back to staring into the dark room, fingers clutching a kerchief tightly. She would rotate between leaving Lyude to Almarde completely and attempting to separate him. She would dangle Lyude in front of Almarde, and punish the woman who stole her husband.
Their battles were silent ones, waged through intended meanings of seemingly plain exchanges of words. Their battles were for vengeance, their battles were for children. Trapped in a web spun from love and affairs and from honor and neighbors, their battles would remain in silence, till they were no more
I'm sorry if anything was innacurate. I still haven't beaten BKO, so I might have some details wrong somewhere. -shrug-
This was just done to avoid studying for finals, so I apologize if it's lame.