Sorry this has taken so long, lots of things happening here at the moment, that and the christmas season to deal with, argh! I'm counting down the days until after new years when everything calms down again. I hpoe you enjoy this, a lot happens.
Chapter Seven: Life in Ronsenburg.
Spring in the Giza was the very beginning of the Wet Season; Malger, with Tal and his rapidly growing baby son, Vossler, secured the homestead in the light drizzle.
"Hay dad?" Tal asked, pulling a rope to hoist another plant of wood to fortify the upper windows against the storms that were to come, "I don't think mum will be very happy with you being so high up, without a safety harness and with Vossler on your back."
"Don't be ridiculous, Tal," he cheerfully swung the plank over the glass, "I use to do the same with you and she never complained."
"Did she actually know?" the boy quizzed suspiciously.
"Well … no, but that's not the point," the General hammered the wood into place, "Your mother had important things to take care of, she is a midwife after all, and spring is a popular time for births."
Tal laughed, "Is that where mum is now? Helping another woman give birth?" he caught the rope and tied it to another board.
"Yes, one of my captains will be a first time father by tonight," Vossler began to cry, "providing all goes well."
"I'm sure it will, Mum's good at everything she does." He pulled the rope again to lift it up to his father.
"I hope so; Captain Oswin is a good man and I would hate for something to go wrong." Malger reached for Vossler and a bottle of his mothers milk, "Hungry again my son?" Vossler hugged the bottle as he drank. "Take five, Tal. I will be a moment."
The teen waited, "That's the last window isn't it, dad?" he asked, holding the rope in place.
"Yes, thankfully," the older man stretched, "I don't think my back could handle much more." Thunder rumbled over head, "Sorry my boy, snack time is over," he packed the bottle away and hurried to secure the last window before returning to ground level.
The rain became heavier, "shouldn't we get inside now?" the boy reached for his baby brother. "Would you like some chips before mum gets home?" the child giggled excitedly.
"Sounds like a great idea, Tal," he ruffled both boys hair as they took shelter from the rain.
Valdar was snuggled in her nest of pillows, she was due and she now could not wait for the day she goes into labour. Her back hurt, she could not lay on her back without feeling dizzy, the baby's inconvenient sleeping patterns and the reduction of her bladder control had made her grumpy.
Ulrich slid his hand onto his wife belly, "How is my sexy mama doing this morning?"
Her mood lightened, he always knew how to cheer her up, the baby kicked at Ulrich's hand, making the couple laugh. "He's definitely strong," he boasted, "takes after me."
Valdar sighed, "And what if he is a girl?"
"Nonsense," Ulrich waved the question off, "With a kick like that, he will definitely be a boy."
"I had a dream that we had a girl," she argued.
"And I had a dream that I drank a whole barrel of ale without passing out," he teased, "It does not mean it will come to pass."
She now waved his words off, "Could you help me out of bed? It is getting quite difficult to move." Ulrich helped Valdar out of bed and aided her with dressing, her bulging belly hindering her usual fluid movements.
After a small breakfast, Valdar dragged Ulrich around the grounds. "My sweet love, why must we walk so fast?" the Hero feeling a little tired with his wife's incessant walking.
"I just need to move," she explained, "the nursery is ready and all it needs now is for our baby to move in." Her legs were still moving without any sign of slowing down.
"Are you sure you have to keep moving? Won't it cause problems for the baby?"
"Why should it?"
Ulrich leaned against a tree to catch his breath, "We have been walking with no direction for hours; is there any point to this?"
The former Judge returned to her husband, "Our son or daughter is over due."
"I can fix that," Ulrich crouched down to his unborn offspring and cleared his voice, "consider this your eviction notice, my child, you have over stayed your welcome and there are others waiting to move in."
Valdar laughed, "Maybe we should return to the house, this heat is wearing me out." she cringed, her hand reaching for her child.
"Is everything alright?" her husband struggled to support her weight.
"Yeah, I think so," her head spun, "I think I need to get back to the house."
Ingra peeled potatoes in the kitchen when, without warning, the door flew open; Ulrich was carrying Valdar in his arms. "Is everything alright?" she asked, placing the paring knife carefully on the bench.
"I think it's time," Valdar explained calmly, "but I'm way off yet."
"We can't be too careful," Ulrich interjected, "Child birth is not formulated."
"She's right Ulrich," Ingra washed her hands, "How far apart are the contractions?"
"About fifteen minutes ago," the heavily pregnant woman shrugged off her current condition, "any chance of one of those slices you made last night?"
"Sure, you've got the time," the young blond retrieved a tin with numerous cake slices and handed it to Valdar. "Here you go."
"Are you sure that's wise?" Ulrich protested, reaching for the tin, which Valdar defended by smacking his hand away.
"I'm supposed to be relaxed," she informed Ulrich, hugging the sweet cakes close to her chest, "and right now I'm hungry."
"Ulrich, it could be hours yet," Ingra laughed, "Mrs Wexler took three days to give birth to little Ylva; I should know, I suffered through the entire birth with her screaming in my face to 'Get it out!'"
"I remember that," Valdar giggled, "Her husbands fainted when her waters broke."
Ulrich sighed, "I would prefer you to retire to our bedroom, like we planned."
"Fine … but I'm taking these with me," Valdar, whilst clasping the tin of cakes tightly, began to waddle out of the kitchen and up the stairs; Ulrich followed, trying to help his wife up the treacherous steps.
Over the many hours, Valdar waited through her labour, doing nothing other than nibble on cakes and complain about the contractions. Ulrich was at a loss as to what to do, other than hold his wife's hand and suffer her surprisingly strong grip.
"You are remarkably quiet, Val," Ingra commented as she entered with a basket of cloth and towelling, "all the other women I've helped screamed insults at their husbands and even got violent."
She rode out another painful contraction, suppressing the urge to cry out; "I have more important things to think about than my own discomfort."
Ingra laughed, "And old Mrs Fon Ronsenburg said you were from weak stock." There was an uncomfortable silence, "Someone will have to tell her ladyship that her grandchild will be born soon."
"She will not recognise our baby as heir to the estate," Ulrich bitterly stated, "I will not allow Archadian blood to pollute the Ronsenburg line!" Ulrich impersonated his mother's voice comically.
"Screw the old hag," Valdar grunted through her teeth as, yet another contraction consumed her.
"Oh! I think you are just about ready!" Ingra squealed, "Remember what I taught you."
Valdar nodded, bracing herself for what could be the most agonising time of her life. The compulsion to push demanded to be sated; she gave into her instinct. With all her might she pushed, "Argh! That hurt!" Ulrich yelped; the bones in his hand grinding together as she it squeezed hard.
"I see the head!" Ingra called out.
"His head!" Ulrich said with disbelief.
"Her head," Valdar corrected him between pushing.
A few moments later, the child's head completely surfaced, "One more big push, Val," Ingra grabbed a swaddling cloth, "I'm ready to catch."
She gave a final, strenuous push and the tell tale cry of a newborn filled the room. Ulrich dove from his wife's side to see his son, "He's a …" the words caught in his throat, "girl."
"Let me see her," she sat up to see, Ulrich cut the cord and reached for his daughter. Ingra happily handed Ulrich his little girl, who walked back to Valdar, "She's beautiful," the young mother wept as her husband lowered the child into her arms.
"She's as lovely as her mother," the proud father burst with joy, "What shall we call her?"
"Frayja; the embodiment of love."
Lady Fon Ronsenburg, the elder, grew cold towards everyone; she did not acknowledge the new addition to the family at all. She would sit silently, staring out the window waiting for her meals to be brought to her by one of the staff.
Ulrich gave up trying to stir her from her self-imposed catatonic status, determined not to give in to her stubbornness, and just avoided her all together.
However, the external view of Lady Fon Ronsenburg did not reflect the inside turmoil boiling away. Her last grip on reality began to slip away, leaving her only with the neuroses and bigotry that infested her mind. Like a time bomb waiting to explode, she sat and waited.
He plucked the pale pink roses that grew by the river, collecting the buds together in a bouquet for his beautiful Ingra. Günter was lucky that Ulrich had missed this patch of flowers; the new father had scalped the estate of all the blossoms he could find as gifts for Valdar and Frayja.
With a red bow, Günter tied the roses together, all twenty blooms; the picture of perfection. He raced back to the estate, to Ingra, who no doubt, was in the kitchen preparing the evening meal. Once she finishes there, he thought, I will give her a special night.
Günter's suspicions were correct, Ingra stood in front on the stove cooking a savoury smelling dish. He walked up behind her, clutching the flowers tightly, "Um … Ingra?" She turned around, looking at him, then the flowers, "these are for you," he felt his voice fade.
Ingra took the bouquet, "thank you," she blushed; the two stood silently, staring at each other.
"Maybe we could …" Günter had only just built up the courage to talk again when the bell rang.
"That's the ol' Bat wanting her supper," Ingra huffed, hanging her had low, "I'll be back soon." She handed him the flowers again and quickly served up the evening meal to take to Lady Fon Ronsenburg. Leaving Günter alone in the kitchen, Ingra hurried to the portrait gallery, where the old woman spent her days.
Günter searched the kitchen for a vase, failing that he grabbed an old clay jar and set the roses in it as best he could and placed them in the middle of the breakfast table and prepared bowls of the stew with some crusty buttered bread. He sat down for a moment; then decided that some candles would finish the scene beautifully.
Ingra returned to see Günter lighting a single candle, the scowl on her face lifted, "you shouldn't have."
"Actually, you did the cooking," he confessed shyly, "but the rest was my idea."
She smiled sweetly, making his heart melt, "Have I pre-prepared the dessert?"
The young man looked around, "I'm sure I could think of something."
"Well," the blond explained, "I have Valdar and Ulrich's dinner to serve then we can enjoy our evening."
With the tray filled with the evenings offerings, Ingra had not expected to be landed with Frayja for a few hours, Ulrich wanted some alone time with Valdar as the following day, he was on his way back to the Capital, his time off for the birth of his daughter now at an end. The small month old child slept in her aunt's arms, unaware of her expulsion from her parent's room.
Ingra returned to the kitchen, with the baby in her arms, Günter's face dropped, and his planned night taking a dramatic change, "Here, take her," Ingra handed Frayja over to the young man, his arms trembling as he accepted her. "You won't break her."
Frayja opened her eyes; the deep sapphire blue eyes took in the room, all the shapes and colours that decorated the walls kept the child silent. "Wow," Günter found the squirming little bundle suddenly fascinating, "What's she looking at?"
"Babies love the textures and bright colours," Ingra chuckled, retrieving a bottle from the ice box and began warming it in a pot of warm water. She looked back to see her male companion who gently rocked Frayja in his arms. "Here," she handed him the bottle for the baby.
"Thank you," he did not hesitate to feed the little girl, quickly forgetting Ingra's presence in the room.
The following morning, Ulrich left with Günter for the Capital on Chocobo back leaving the girls behind to run the estate. Valdar felt the sorrow of her husband's departure more than the last time; she cradled their child close as they rode away, "the next three months will be agony," the young mother sighed.
"They will be back sooner than you realise," Ingra comforted Valdar as best she could. Once the men were out of sight, the two women retreated to the cool, shady courtyard to the north of the manor.
"Any movement from Lady Fon Ronsenburg?" Valdar asked darkly, looking up at the woman in the window above them.
"No," the young blond admitted, "Though if I stop feeding her, she'll probably die. I feel sorry for her personal servant; Berit is the one who has to clean the bitch."
"Poor girl," Valdar rocked Frayja gently, smiling at her rapidly growing baby, "she's only sixteen, she should be with her friends, socialising not tending to an old woman."
"Her friends have moved on to the Capital," Ingra explained, "She's working here to join them when she can afford it."
"Ulrich?" Valdar asked, she knew her husband well enough to know he would offer help in such a way.
"How did you guess?" Ingra chuckled, she looked up to the window, "Oh my, her Ladyship has decided to move."
Valdar felt a shiver go down her back, "I don't trust that woman," she said in a low voice, hugging her child close, "I never have."
The Senate cheered as Ulrich entered, his peers congratulating him for his families latest addition. His reception was warmer than when he was married. "Don't be making a habit of it, boy," the elderly member of the northern waste, chortled, "Or your lovely wife will make you walk with a limp."
"I feared what she would do with me leaving so soon after Frayja's birth," Ulrich grinned, taking his position in the second row, relaxing on the bench seat with his paper work on his lap. He tried to focus on his responsibilities in the senate, the current issues involving the lack of funding for the health facilities; this piqued his interest, the main argument of child mortality rates have remained steady for over a century at 10%.
"It weeds out the weak," a man across the floor argued, "allowing only the strong to flourish." The statement angered Ulrich, during Valdar's pregnancy, a third of the children died from illness in Ronsenburg. The Senator knew their pain, as he visited each grieving family, not as a politician but as a friend.
What angered him more was the roar of support for the heartless man, he knew that only a handful for Senate members had lost children, they remained quiet, clearly too emotional to speak up. "Imagine the strength Landis will possess if our population grew for once?" the member of Autton, Jarl, whom sat next to Ulrich, "Saving a child from illness will make them strong, we have been working against Landis for years. We must do something!"
Before anyone could oppose the argument, Ulrich stood up; "He is more than correct, our colleague here has been campaigning for years to increase funding to health. The comment of 'weeding out the weak,' is a flawed one, strength does not always come in the form of physical prowess; intelligence is also needed. Something, it appears, that is woefully lacking in the current day." The jeers in his direction were ignored; Ulrich had never felt so impassioned about anything in the Senate before, perhaps his daughter gave him the inspiration to make Landis better for all children, for her. "Perhaps if we focused more on improving ourselves rather than parading ourselves as, indefatigable and fearless warriors to intimidate other nations. We, as a nation are pathetic, little more than the remnants of a mighty Republic that ruled Valendia a thousand years ago; brought to our knees through our own arrogance that still persists today!"
Ulrich couldn't believe he blew up like that, but the solemn silence that followed made it clear that the senate experienced a collective epiphany, at least most of them did, the Chancellor decided to speak up, "It is attitudes like that, that will prevent Landis from rising again," his eyes borrowing into Ulrich's filled with rage. "Or has the member of Ronsenburg shifted his allegiances to the Mighty Archadian Empire?"
"Perhaps if we were more like Archadia, Landis would not be in such a sorry state," Ulrich growled angrily, crumpling the papers in his balling fists, "If we do not improve not only health, but education and the sciences as well."
"So we can be a little Archadia," Adlersflügel sneered, "how charming."
"They are our closest neighbour, Wolfram," Ulrich argued, agitated with the chancellor for his blatant distain for the Empire. "Why do you hate them so much?"
His reply was a disdainful glare that the entire senate could see.
Ulrich had been gone for a fortnight, Valdar missed his warm arms at night, but she had managed through most of her pregnancy, so she could manage now. The weather had been warming steadily over the last few weeks; the nights were hot and difficult to sleep through.
Frayja slept soundly through the nights since Ingra showed her a little trick of giving the baby a big feed before going to bed; the only problem was that Valdar could not sleep. She punched the pillow again in a vain attempt for extra comfort. Her mind refusing to let her rest, it played tricks on her with the moving shadows and the clunking of the house as it settled in the slightly cooler temperatures of the nocturnal hours. She could swear she heard footsteps in the hall, which was ridiculous; nobody would be up so late.
Her heart jumped, the sound of a door latching down the hall got her attention. Valdar jumped out of bed to investigate the disturbance. Creeping to her door, she opened it silently, peeking down the hall in the direction of the noise. The hall was empty, no sigh of movement from any of the doors; deciding that she had imagined it; she closed the door and returned to bed.
Valdar had finally woken, the sun higher in the sky than she expected. She jumped out of bed and dressed quickly before racing down stairs, the house was silent, not unusual as nobody wished to disturb Lady Fon Ronsenburg. The young woman made her way down to the kitchen, expecting to find it devoid of company, only to find Ingra nursing Frayja.
"Thank you for caring for Frayja while I slept," Valdar smiled, but was taken aback at the worry on Ingra's face, "What's wrong?"
"It Frayja," she said, "She is sick."
A shudder shot down Valdar's spine, "give her to me." Ingra gave Valdar her daughter, the child was pale and the smell of vomit on her breath, "what happened?"
"She was fine this morning," the worried aunt explained, "but after she had her bottle, she convulsed, vomiting it all up, I waited until she looked better before I fed her again, but the same thing happened."
The baby began to cry, the pain in her voice tearing at Valdar's heart, "I'll try feeding her, and see if that helps." She calmed Frayja enough for her to suckle from her mother, Valdar sighed as the pressure eased in her chest. The child drank hungrily, her hand clinging to her mother's finger. "I think maybe the milk went bad."
"Looks like it," Ingra agreed, "I'll replace the Ice crystal today in town.
The following day, with the Ice crystal replaced, the same thing happened, but Frayja's mother milk did not help as much, "Something is definitely wrong," Valdar was worried, "We need to get to a doctor."
"The nearest doctor is in town, but he's old." Ingra stood to leave, "I'll return shortly."
Valdar nodded as she cradled her baby close.
Ingra hurried into town, the mud from the rain the night before sticking to her shoes, making it difficult to walk. Refusing to give up, she pushed on, navigating the streets to find the physician. She found him easily enough, in his home; however, the elderly man did not look well either. "Doctor Agnar, are you well?" the blond asked.
With a throaty cough, he shook his head, "Unfortunately my dear, I am not."
"Do you know who could help me?" she begged, "Ulrich's daughter is ill, she is vomiting and convulsing each time we feed her."
"Is the milk fresh?" he enquired.
"Yes," she answered quickly.
"It sounds like a bug," he said flatly, "Try alternating her meals with clean water she should recover in about a week."
Nevertheless, she did not, over the next two weeks, the infants health declined.
Günter tired of the Capital quickly, he decided to remain at the townhouse and do nothing while he had the chance. Lying back on his bed, he closed his eyes to do absolutely nothing. It was short lived, a frantic knocking at the front door succeeded in ruining his tranquillity. He did not hurry down the stairs, nor did he hurry answering the door.
"I have an urgent message from Ronsenburg for the Senator," a young woman explained, "I am not permitted to enter the Senate as I am not Sir Ulrich's personal assistant." She handed Günter a small note sealed with a dark wax. "Please get it to him as soon as possible." And with that, she left.
Günter locked the door behind him, darting through the streets towards the one building he had not visited in the Capital since he began working for Ulrich the year before, the Senate. The large bronze doors that guarded those inside glistened in the sun. He stood awe struck, how could this place be savage?
Slowly, he pushed the doors open and entered the cavernous hall, it echoed with the shouts and angry cries of the politicians; then all at once, they fell silent staring at Günter as he stood shaking, he built up the courage to speak, albeit weakly. "I have an urgent message for Senator Fon Ronsenburg," he held up the note waiting to see what happened next.
Ulrich made his way to Günter, "This had better be important, Günter." He snatched the note out of his hand, tearing it open and reading it. His face went pale.
"Sir?" Günter attempted to see if everything would be all right.
He said nothing, dropping the note and leaving.
"Sir," Günter called again, "What is wrong?" he picked up the note, "Oh no."
Valdar would not let Frayja go, she had been holding the infant since she passed that morning, the mysterious illness had claimed her; even the doctor could not help.
Ingra tried to console her sister-in-law without success. "Please, let me do something," she begged the quiet woman. That night, Valdar finally relented, agreeing to let go of her deceased daughter and agreeing to have a cup of tea. Ingra walked into the kitchen, seeing something that stunned her, Lady Fon Ronsenburg with a pot of something ominous. The old woman spoke for the first time in two months, "I said that woman's blood was weak," she grinned causing the hairs on the back of Ingra's neck stand up, Lady Fon Ronsenburg glided past her smiling like it was the perfect day. Ingra inspected the pot that the lady of the house had left, rat poison and it looked conspicuously like sugar. The young woman then sniffed the sugar; it too smelt of rat poison. Ingra had a sickening feeling in her stomach, she checked what was left of Frayja's milk; the odour confirmed her fears.
Ingra was furious, rat poison in Frayja's milk! That old bitch had poisoned her own granddaughter; distraught and angry, Ingra marched back to the parlour to Valdar, who now sat at her daughter's side. "Valdar we need to talk," she barely held back the fury that boiled inside of her.
The grieving mother followed Ingra out of the house into the summer night, "What is it Ingra?"
"That bitch, she did it!" the blond erupted, her face white, the rage only just contained, "She poisoned her!"
Valdar shook, she knew she could not trust her, but to kill her own granddaughter, only one thing came to mind, "She will die."
The following morning, Ingra gave Berit the morning off, Lady Fon Ronsenburg wasted no time in making Valdar feel worse. But Valdar blocked her out, not listening to any of the derogative words she had to say.
Ingra cooked the woman's breakfast and made her a cup of tea, using the one ingredient that Lady Fon Ronsenburg used to kill Frayja. She tried her best to make the food look as appetising as possible then brought it to her Ladyship in a submissive manner, stood back, and waited.
The nasty woman ate, ignoring Ingra who waited until she had eaten enough to inform her of her pending doom. "I have something to tell you Lady Fon Ronsenburg," Ingra began.
"What could you possibly have to say to me?" she replied in a patronising tone.
"I am your late husband's daughter," Ingra grinned gleefully, "Did you know that?"
"My dear husband would never have touched your mother," Lady Fon Ronsenburg snidely remarked, "He was not interested in the likes of your mother."
"What ever you believe Lady Fon Ronsenburg; how's your breakfast?" Ingra continued, smugly.
"You over cooked the eggs and it doesn't taste right," the old woman complained.
"Yes, that would be the rat poison," she admitted, casually, checking her fingernails for dirt, "You might want to put more salt on it, bring out the other flavours."
"You did what?" the panic now forming in the woman's voice, "Are you trying to kill me?" she reached for the tea to dilute the substance.
"No, not trying," Ingra smiled, "I believe I have succeeded, the tea was poisoned as well; you don't have much longer. Any last words?" she assumed a sincere tone.
"You little bitch; Ulrich will kill you for this!" Lady Fon Ronsenburg fell from the table, vomiting and convulsing.
"I doubt it," Ingra crouched down by her side, "He's hated you for years and how do you think he will react when he finds out that you murdered his daughter, I simply saved him the trouble of killing you himself." She stood, watching the bitter old woman draw her last breath. Ingra summoned her inner thespian and raced from the room crying out that Lady Fon Ronsenburg has succumbed to the same illness that took Frayja.
It had all gone to plan; Ingra did her part, now Valdar had to do hers. "We must bury them to prevent the infection from spreading," Valdar ordered the groundskeeper, "As quickly as possible, be careful." The thought of burying Frayja before Ulrich returned broke her heart, he would return the following morning if he left when he received the letter. She swallowed her sorrow, hardening her countenance to fill her new roll as Lady of the manor.
Ingra moved to Valdar's side after the groundskeeper left, "How are you holding up?"
"I'm feeling much better considering," her reply was devoid of all emotion, "So much has happened over the last few days. Ulrich will be home tomorrow, so until then … I don't know." She sighed, "I'm going to lie down for a while." She walked back to the house alone, leaving Ingra in the garden.
Antja huffed as she forced her legs to run without rest, Ulrich would not relent, his determination to get home before anything happened. Poor Günter bounced along on Lykke, a regular yellow Chocobo who struggled to keep up. Ulrich had not rested since he received the message that morning in the Capital, two days ago. Their endeavour neared its end; the township of Ronsenburg was in their sights. "Thank … the … Gods …," Günter cried, his posterior hurting from the rough ride, "Near … ly … home." Ulrich did not answer; he pushed on.
They rounded the corner to the property, it looked eerily quiet, not like when he had left a month earlier. Nobody toiled in the flowerbeds, nobody tended to the Chocobo flock, and nobody greeted their return. "Take care of the birds," Ulrich ordered Günter as he ran inside. "Valdar!"
"In here," she called from the parlour, she had not moved all day, "I have been waiting for you."
"Where's Frayja?" he asked, worried, "Valdar?"
His wife sighed, allowing her emotions to surface, "She's gone, Ulrich."
He felt his heart shatter at her words, "Can I see her?"
Valdar choked, tears flowing from her eyes in torrents, "You can't," she explained, "Both your mother and Frayja came down with an unknown illness, we buried them to prevent it from spreading." She knew it was a lie, but her life depended on it, Ingra's too.
Ulrich drew her into his arms, holding her close as she wept. "Where is everyone?" Ulrich asked finally, "The place is too quiet."
"I gave them time off while we morn," she dried her eyes on her sleeves, "Ingra has been with me since Frayja fell ill, she has been wonderful."
Ulrich's mind returned to the senate, the health issues and child mortality rates. Determination seeded itself in Ulrich; his focus would be to bring life for those who would otherwise loose it through illness.
The summer ended with a belated Wake for the two deceased Fon Ronsenburgs, nearly a fortnight since the deaths. Valdar had made peace with her loss, knowing the perpetrator had met with a poetic end; she now had to focus on the future.
The Wake had coincided with the end of summer festival of the grains, an annual celebration of the conclusion of the grain harvest, which involves everything to do with grains; ale, bread, cakes, etc. like with all rural celebrations, Ulrich had organised the large bon fire and the activities usually associated with the celebration. His heart was not in it, his concern for Valdar made him feel uneasy around her; they had barely spoken over the past few weeks, what could he have to say to her? He did not dare mention Frayja or his mother and the thought of more children was too soon.
They sat by the fire on a rug, watching people adding to the flames with unwanted refuse. Ulrich wanted to comfort his wife, put his arm around her and let her know everything would be all right; would she accept him?
He looked over to Valdar, her brilliant blue eyes reflected the raging fire before her; at that moment he knew she would accept him. He eased his arm around her shoulders, "Are you alright my love?" he asked warmly, giving her a light squeeze.
"I had hoped," she began with a sigh, "that when this time came, we would be a happy family." She looked around to Ulrich's worried gaze, "However, circumstances dictate that, which can not be … not this year, anyway."
His gaze changed from worry to confusion, "What do you mean, love?"
"I am with child once more," she told him dryly, "I have known for some time, that night before you left for the Senate, I wished for a larger family and that wish was granted, yet I am not happy about it, it scares me."
"Than I will spend as much gil that is necessary to make sure you and the baby are safe," Ulrich grasped her hands, "Even if we move to Archadia, I would give up everything to protect you and our family." He kissed her, pouring his love into her. "Do not fear bringing life into the world, it is a gift that you have been granted, please don't shy away from such wonder."
"I fear what is to come after our baby's birth," her breath becoming shaky, "I cannot loose another Ulrich, if this child does not live, I will never conceive again."
Her husband lowered his eyes, "I cannot promise you anything, only that you will trust me to do my part, as your husband, to protect you and our family; as I vowed the day we were married."
"I won't make you give up your home, but I will not leave your side until I know our child is safe." She leaned into his shoulder, "I love you, Ulrich."
He finally smiled, "I love you too." They snuggled together watching the fire and celebrations around them.
Günter looked on, Ingra was dancing with some of the young women of Ronsenburg around the bonfire; he made up his mind, once again, to make his intensions known to the object of his heart's desire. He cautiously approached her and the group of village girls, his heart raced with every step he took.
Ingra noticed him walking towards her; she had waited for his move since they met in the Capital. She liked his shyness and absolute devotion to Ulrich, not to mention his chestnut hair that she dreamed about every night. He stopped just short of the group, an apparent case of nerves attacking his courage to continue; but his determination won. He walked straight up to Ingra, taking her hand and guiding her away from her friends, his own hand trembling.
"Ingra," he said confidently, "I wish to state my intentions to court you."
Ingra laughed, "Come on Günter, I'm just a regular girl, you can drop the formalities." She smiled up at him, "and why did it take you so long to ask me?"
"I don't know," he shyly grinned in return, "I wanted to be sure you wanted me."
She gave him a playful slap on the arm, "Why would you have doubts about my affections? I thought I made them clear ages ago."
"I suppose I should get Ulrich's blessing," he kissed her hand; "he is your brother after all."
"Shhh!" Ingra panicked, "That is privileged information, the Village does not know, nor will it!"
"Okay," he chuckled, "but I will still be asking him."
Günter asked Ulrich the following morning, Ingra, thrilled with knowing for sure that Günter loved her, celebrated with a feast for the family. Everything was beginning to look up.
Gramis had just returned from the Senate with the intension of spending the few remaining hours with his sons and his wife for a picnic in the imperial gardens. The Empress had gone riding that morning with her entourage of judges and courtiers to the Tchita Uplands. Empress Seraphine, the former princess of Nebradia, had grown up on Chocobo back with her brother Chrysanthos, the heir to the Nebradian thrown. Like all the nobility of Nebradia, she had the platinum blond hair, brilliant blue eyes and a wicked sense of humour, the latter being what drew Gramis to the young woman to begin with. The close of the War of Empires ten years ago, had seen most of those nations who had armed themselves against Archadia, had now come together in Nabudis for peace talks. Seraphine was, at that time, a feisty sixteen year old with a quick wit and radiant smile. Gramis was only an heir apparent at the time, his father being too old to travel had laid the responsibility on him to represent Archadia for the peace talks; he took an instant liking to the princess, however, at first it was unrequited, Seraphine showing her dislike of the Empire by breaking Gramis's nose.
Now Ten years later, he waited for his wife to return, the boys ran around, chasing each other among the trees and bushes. The Palace chefs had orders not to bring up their meal until the Empress returned, but the sun was low in the west and she still had not returned. "You're Excellency?" Gramis looked towards the location of the address, it was Judge Magister Ek, and she had removed her helmet and bowed her head, "I must speak with you in private." She had a solemn look in her eyes. The Emperor had nodded, leaving his sons to play in the roof top garden. They moved further into the Palace, to a small drawing room that overlooked the tiny piece of paradise. "It's the Empress, sire, there's been an accident."
The Emperor held his composure, "What has happened?" he asked calmly, his anxiety showing with the twitching of his eyebrow.
"Her riding party was ambushed in the Fields of Eternity," Ek explained, "She was the only survivor, but she is not in a good way."
"Where is she? I need to see her," His voice becoming more panicked, "I need to know she is alright!"
"She has suffered a severe head trauma, she's in surgery right now," the Judge sighed, "It does not look good, Gramis."
The Emperor shook, "Take me to Draklor." Ek nodded and escorted him to a hover car and made their way to the Medical sector of Draklor.
Matías walked with Laiard through the crystalline garden of the Winter Palace, she had not left his side too often since the night he was declared heir to thrown, and the Emperor himself had not made a public appearance since either. The thirty-year-old Matías had become regent during his father's absence, fortifying the southern Empire against attack while trying to strengthen it from within so to ward off war entirely. "Lady Katarina, I was not expecting to see you here," the prince commented with a hint of surprise, "I thought you had returned to your manor house?"
"I have a rather serious question to ask you, You're Highness," her tone was venomous, "Why did you authorise an attack on the Empress of Archadia?"
Laiard's jaw dropped "What attack?" she looked up at her handsome companion, "What's going on?"
"Lady Katarina, I authorised no such thing," he replied, perplexed by her accusation, "What has happened?"
"Rozzarian troops have attacked Empress Seraphine's riding party, killing all but the Empress," she fumed, "Rozzaria cannot afford a war with Archadia again!"
"I swear to you, I had nothing to do with it," he argued, "I have been working towards peace with our northern friends, why would I jeopardise that by attacking the wife of the one I'd hoped to talk peace with?"
"Than I recommend that you find who is responsible and serve him on a silver platter!" Katarina exclaimed loudly, "We cannot have rogues running amok with the future of our home!"
"My Lady, I will find who is responsible and deliver him to the Archadians as a sign of good faith," Matías rested on a blue ice-like bench with Laiard by his side, "Can I trust you with such a task my dear?"
She gave a devious grin, "By any means necessary."
Okay, I'll be working on With My Blood now; I hoped you liked this chapter, soon we will have more of our favourite characters making an appearence soon, I promise :Þ