A Sort of Homecoming

II: Meeting the Family

Two centuries ago, the Maerzens were just one more farming family in Dunhaven. They had a small patch of land, no bigger or better located than any other, and they prided themselves on the honest labor they put into making it successful. At least, most of the family did. There was one Maerzen, an enterprising young man named Lucien, who was much better at counting beans than cultivating them. Fortunately for him and future generations of Maerzens, Lucien's gift for finance went unmatched in the region. He devised an intricate plan of loans, liens and leases that boiled down to buying up as much damn land as he could get his hands on. In a few decades, Maerzens owned half of Dunhaven. As a tribute to Lucien's fiscal acumen, the first born male in every generation was named after him, though not exactly after him as Dunhaven was still a farming town and its people didn't care for anything that looked like putting on airs.

That fusion of great wealth and modesty remained important to the modern day Maerzens. Their house might be five times the size of the average Dunhaven home, but that's exactly what it looked like – the average Dunhaven home built on a five to one scale. No fancy arches or pillars on the front of the house. No ornate topiaries or statues in the landscaping. Even the paint job was simple, eschewing the zigzag lines that were oddly popular in Palas. It was as architecturally interesting as a box.

The inside of the house was much the same. The furnishings in the numerous rooms were all about practicality over style. The 'formal' sitting room consisted of three comfy couches arranged in a U around a low built table that bore the scratches and stains of repeated use. The books on the shelves lining the back wall had actually been read. The objects d' arte sitting beside the books were half professional pieces and half craft projects undertaken by Maerzen children on rainy days. Anathema to moneyed Asturian families, there was not a single giant portrait of any Maerzen hanging anywhere on the walls. As a general rule, Maerzens hated having their picture painted.

Despite the simplicity of the wealth around him, Revius was still trying to tally it up. "Do you have any idea how much this place would sell for in Palas?" he said, mostly to himself. Alucier and Damise were reminiscing over a misshapen vase-bowl-thingy Alucier had sculpted as boy. It had been made as a gift to his mother, but even to this day, he couldn't say what it actually was.

Revius continued with his monologue, retracing the tour Damise had given him room by room in his appraisal. "That kitchen you showed me is the size of the first floor of my parent's place. Hell, this estate is probably bigger than Allen's." He paused in his gushing only long enough to question why Alucier would live in a crummy apartment when he could obviously afford someplace better.

"Because I love my roommate so damn much," Alucier answered, "and I can't bare the thought of him living alone in squalor."

"You would take me with you," Revius said, completely serious.

"For the record, Rev, it's my parents that have all the money. The only way I could get a hold of any of it was if I was willing to trade my sword for a ploughshare."

"You could always beg a great deal," said a woman standing by the door. She was wearing a plain green dress similar to the ones worn by the handful of maids the house employed, but the color of her hair and her attitude made her identity clear. "We might give you some money for providing us with the entertainment."

"I thought you raised your children to be proud and independent," Alucier said to her.

"I also raised them to be farmers and one of them had the nerve to run off to the big city to play with swords."

"He sounds like ungrateful wretch."

"Oh, just come here, boy," she said. But she didn't give Alucier the chance. She was on the couch beside him and giving her son a hug before he could set the vase-bowl-thingy down.

"Let me look at you," she said, standing up and stepping away to get the full view. "What are you thinking, wearing that ridiculous outfit out here in the country? Tell me you packed something with less puff in the sleeves."

"You know," Alucier said. "Some people respect the Caeli uniform."

"Makes more sense to respect the person wearing it, assuming they deserve it. I've heard what you've had to say about some of your fellow knights."

"Nothing bad about me, I hope," Revius said.

"I don't know. If my son would introduce us, I might be able to tell you."

That was typical of his mother – sniffing at decorum one second, embracing it the next, all thoroughly dependant on which one embarrassed her child more. Nonetheless, Alucier relented. "Hillaine Maerzen, this is Dashir Revius. Dashir Revius, this is my mother, Hillaine Maerzen."

Revius did his part too, bowing gracefully before Hillaine and taking her hand to place a gentle kiss upon it.

"Ah, the roommate," she commented. "You never told me how adorable he is, Alucier. So gallant too!"

Revius bowed even lower. "Truly, my lady, it is your grace that demands such tribute and any man that would fail to do you that honor is but the lowliest of curs."

Hillaine laughed to herself, not because of the flattery but because her son hadn't pulled any punches when describing his roommate in letters home. "Such pretty words, Sir Knight. Of course, if you talk to any of my daughters like that, I'll come after you with a pitchfork."

Revius stood up with a shrug. He was used to his reputation preceding him. "Wouldn't be the first time."

"I doubt it would be the last either," Hillaine said. "Still, I want to show off my girls. They just finished getting their final fittings for their dresses tomorrow so now it's my turn with the seamstress. Yours too, Damise."

Damise was less than thrilled with the prospect. So unthrilled, she volunteered to keep showing Revius around. "He hasn't seen the guest rooms yet. And I'm sure he'll find the barns just fascinating."

"Oh, yeah," he played along, "We city boys are enthralled by…whatever it is you keep in barns."

"Then Alucier can show them to you after he's through introducing the rest of his sisters. You can tell me and Damise all about your farm adventure when we are through with the seamstress."

Raising seven children can put an edge into a woman's commands, an edge that cannot be disobeyed no matter how old the children have gotten, or in Revius' case, even if the child doesn't actually belong to them. Three adults set about doing exactly as they were told.

Hillaine smiled at the display. "One more thing, Alucier. Drag your father in from the fields if you can. We got a new piece of equipment last week and he's stayed out there every night like a boy with a new toy since."

"It's some ungodly thing with blades and rakes that I imported from Basram," Damise explained. "At first, Father was against buying it because it was so expensive. I had to put my foot down and say 'You let me take over the business for a reason'. Now he stands out there watching it run like he's hypnotized."

"Ah, so that's where Alucier gets his thing for guymelefs from," Revius said.

"Excuse me, Revius, but I'm not the one who's been bugging Allen again and again to let him borrow Scherazade once it's finished being repaired."

"Yeah, because once you got in it, you'd crash into something and wreck it again."

"I am not that bad of a pilot."

"Boys can be so cute when they bicker over silly things," Hillaine mused to Damise. "Makes me wish I had had more than one."

Her daughter was very careful not to give any sort of response. She knew what the response to her response would be. History had taught her well. So when Hillaine finished her thought, Damise was already busy mentally reviewing delivery schedules. She never heard her mother say, "Well, one is better than none – much better. No offense, dear."

o-o-o-o-o

Any other time Revius was alone in a room with five women, he would silently celebrate his good luck and go to work.

This time was different. Four of the five women were married. The fifth would be married tomorrow. All of them had a brother who, while not his equal in swordplay, could still do some damage to Revius. Knowing said brother and said brother knowing him, said damage would probably be done to a particular region of Revius' body that he would muchly prefer to go undamaged. Factor in all of the women also having a father who had spent the last few days learning to run a big machine with lots of blades on it and Revius was on his best behavior.

Thankfully, none of the women's husbands were here. Doubly thankfully, because Revius was having a hard enough time as it was keeping the names of the ladies straight. Toss in a couple of gentlemen and he would have been lost. He knew Clea and Rinell were the blondes. He just didn't know which blonde was Clea and which one was Rinell. He was doing better with the blonde sisters than with the brunettes though. There were three of them to contend with and for the life of him, he couldn't remember the third name.

The sisters had picked up on his confusion and, compounding Revius' problem, had found it amusing. I hate this family, Revius thought as the females took turns picking on him.

"So, Dashir," said the brown-haired sister that was slightly taller than the rest. "Lia just got a new haircut and isn't sure if it suits her. What do you think?"

Revius frowned. He had thought the tall one was Lianora. There was the distinct chance that she was Lianora and she was messing with him, but Revius wasn't sure enough to call the bluff. "I don't think I would be a fair judge of that. Why don't you ask Alucier and your father when they come back? They would know better than I do."

He hoped they would be here soon. Alucier had wandered off to do his mother's bidding and retrieve his father after making what was proving to be a far too hasty introduction to his sisters.

"I like Lia's hair," Clea or Rinell said. "I was thinking of wearing mine like that tomorrow for the wedding. Or do you think I would look better with hair more like Loran's, Dashir?"

"I think you look lovely exactly as you are." Revius had thought the blonde ones were supposed to be the nice ones, but he was glad she had taken a stab at him. Her set-up was easy to dodge and Loran was the name he had forgotten. Now that he had all the names at his disposal, he decided to go on the offensive. "So, Lianora, Loran, Clea, Rinell and Carlotte…you all have such beautiful names. Why don't you each individually tell me how your parents chose your names?"

"Aww, you're no fun," one of the brown haired ones announced.

His pride took a hit at being labeled 'no fun' but he squelched the snappy rejoinders. Being on his best behavior definitely precluded any descriptions of the typical manner in which women found him to be a great deal of fun. Revius was not without some depth to him though. He had been born and bred upper class, giving him plenty of experience to learn how to talk to anyone about nothing in particular. Taking his cues from tomorrow's nuptials, he waded into an innocuous, non-entendre laden discussion about how bride had met groom. He mostly paid attention to it.

It was apparent the sisters had heard the whole story before. They finished each other's sentences, laughed in anticipation of the funny parts and sighed sweetly before the gooey sentimental ones. Clea shone, and not only because she was the center of all the attention. For a second, Revius wondered if a woman would ever share a similar experience with her sisters over him. He had a good laugh over the notion.

"Is something funny?" Alucier asked when he came back and saw his friend in such high spirits. "Or did my sisters manage to drive you insane already?"

"That's why you left in such a hurry. You were setting me up," Revius accused.

"If I was setting you up, you would have spent the last twenty minutes listening to the history of threshers instead of me."

"It's a shame," said a voice from behind Alucier. "A boy moves to the city and forgets how great all the things at home are." The voice's owner approached Revius, extended a hand in greeting and over a vigorous handshake, introduced himself as Lucas Maerzen, apologized in case his girls had given Revius a hard time and offered to give a full tour of the land so he could explain to Revius all the joys of living on a farm. Revius tried to wedge his own introduction in there somewhere but gave up and nodded along.

Eventually, even the most experienced talker needs to take a breath. Alucier took advantage of that small pause to defend himself. "Dad, I have always hated the things at home. It's just not me. That's why I went to the city in the first place."

The older Maerzen was shorter than his son, and looked like he had about thirty years and at least that many pounds over Alucier. His face was rounder as well, with the trademark glasses resting just above his cheeks. Alucier and the sisters got the hair and eyes from him, but everything else came from their mother. From the warmth and sincerity in the man's laughter at Alucier's comment, Revius guessed the sarcastic part of their humor was maternal too.

"Oh, I know there are a few things at home you don't hate, son," Lucas said, reaching up to pat Alucier's shoulder. "Now I better go talk to the girls before I embarrass you in front of your friend."

"Wow," was all Revius could say.

"My father's a bit different from the rest of the family," Alucier said solemnly.

"He's so friendly and nice –"

"I'm nice."

"Yeah, but in a mean way."

"It's not mean…I just like to add a little humor to things, that's all."

"Dark, mordant humor," Revius countered. "Your father likes puns, doesn't he? I bet his idea of a joke is a good pun."

In fact, making plays on words was a sort of hobby for Lucas Maerzen, one that he had shared with his children so much that the assigning of their chores had been met with less groaning than the jokes about them. There was one joke in particular - about gathering eggs from the hen house - Alucier had heard at least a hundred times. "Yeah, so…some people like puns…"

"I wasn't picking on him. Don't be so defensive." Revius took a long, appraising look at Alucier, then, with a smirk, said, "People can act so differently around their families than they do with everyone else. I think it's going to be fun watching you be all off balance around your parents and your sisters. And your mother hasn't even started in on you about your love life…"

"Your amusement is my highest priority," Alucier said, adding extra meanness to his niceness. His mother's nagging was bad. Revius taking a perverse delight in that nagging would be worse – much, much worse.

"This is going to be such a great week," Revius proclaimed. "I can't wait to tell Eries and Seclas all about it when we get back."

Alucier disagreed, but did not say so. He thoughts returned once more to why he would let his family be exposed to Revius and vice versa. He got the same answer as before, that he must be utterly stupid, but this time a rhetorical question popped up too: 'What am I, some kind of masochist?'

Author's Note - I hope I didn't frighten anyone by updating after just a week. This story seems to be spewing itself out faster than anything else I've written in a loooong time. It's not going to be terribly long; I only have three more chapters planned.

Thanks, RahS, for your concern. I had started that story and left it half-finished before Morph died and finishing it turned out to be pretty therapeutic.