[Larpfic] Facets and Facetiousness, part 3
May. 4th, 2010 11:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bouteillebleuSome more fic. Features tea and a galero.
With the ball itself a success, there follows a week that is quieter but no less busy, as many of the guests take advantage of their hosts' hospitality for a few days more. Aravina herself is busy with the thousand tasks that follow any large celebration, and when Emma finally finds her it is at her writing desk in her study, her brow furrowed as she compares several lists.
"Tea, my lady." Aravina looks up, startled, to see Emma smiling and offering a cup.
"...Thank you, Emma. I must have lost all track of time. Is it lunch yet?"
"Two hours past. Ser de Bridgemont was worried about where you were so sent me to look for you. I told him that you'd most likely be reading through the agricultural accounts, but he insisted that farming manifests couldn't be so interesting as to miss Lucy's cooking for them."
Aravina smiles, takes the offered tea cup and moves the lists to one side to place its saucer on her desk. "Not so much interesting, as impenetrable. Several of these farms are smallholds with workers from other colonies, and they all insist on being paid in whichever coinage they know from home. If they'd at least be polite and take their pay in marks, it would simplify matters so much."
"Smallholds in Flembic lands?"
"Yes, that's what puzzles me. What good is having your pay in kyat or ducatto if you can't spend it?" She sighs, and takes another sip of tea.
"You did mention that you were looking for something for Potch to do," Emma says. "If she's as skilled with accounting as you said, could she not study the accounts for you?"
Aravina thinks for a while, sipping at her tea, and taking occasional glances at the lists beside the saucer. Emma waits for a reply, still holding the tray with a teapot on it, watching Aravina's expression and the reluctance with which she looks at her accounting. Finally, Aravina nods, and places her cup down, only the dregs left.
"I'll talk to her, and see if she can solve some of this arithmetic more easily than I can. It ought to be my responsibility, though."
"Begging your pardon, lady, but it ought to be Ser de Bridgemont's responsibility after he let Mister Farnham go." Aravina looks at her, eyebrows raised, and Emma nods. "He told us that he'd be taking on the administrative tasks, since the understeward also left. Nobody else had the training or the right head for figures, but he's made no mention of appointing someone else in four months."
"Hm." Aravina purses her lips, and looks at her tea cup again. "I've seen the house accounts since Farnham left, and they have no mistakes, but you're right. And leaving this all to Nicholas on his own is unwise. I'll start making enquiries about a new steward and understeward. Is that all?"
There is a knock at the door, and an ostentatious cough from outside. Emma gives Aravina a small, tight smile, and pours her another cup of tea.
"Father d'Alessio and Reverend Fenwick to see you, lady. They said they'd wanted to talk to you earlier this week but you were otherwise engaged, and Father d'Alessio also said that the ball wouldn't have been an appropriate place to discuss spiritual matters."
Aravina freezes, tea cup in her hand, raised halfway to her mouth. "Did they say what they wanted to discuss? Surely Reverend Fenwick knows more about the spiritual health of the household than I do. And Father d'Alessio wouldn't visit unless there were a problem."
"I understand Reverend Fenwick is visiting all the local households to preach, and Father d'Alessio wanted to accompany him on some of his visits. I've not heard more than that, lady."
Another knock at the door, this one more insistent, and Emma looks at Aravina with sympathy. "Shall I tell them you'll see them, and then fetch more tea?"
"Yes. Please do. Could you also find Potch and fetch her as well? I'd meant to introduce her and the Reverend, but there simply hasn't been the time."
"Of course."
----
Aravina's study is one of the smaller rooms in the house, but well-lit, and with several large windows that look out onto the lawn and the woods beyond. On quiet days she is as often found in her study as out of it, and the chaise and table are there for any visitors who might find her there. This afternoon, the priests have taken the chaise while Aravina moves her writing chair over. Reverend Fenwick is looking somewhat embarrassed, and Father d'Alessio is neatening the tassels on his hat, straightening them and then retying the knots, only to unpick them with a sigh when the ends are uneven. Emma has gone for more tea, and there is a silence that grows more uncomfortable.
"...Sera Aravina," Fenwick finally says, breaking the silence. "How is your household?"
d'Alessio continues to fuss with his hat. Aravina glances at the hat, and smiles gracefully at Reverend Fenwick. "Very well, thank you. The shrine is being kept well by my cousin, and there is a legal case that some more evidence has been found for that we should now be able to resolve." She looks once again at d'Alessio, who appears to have made some progress with the complex knotting, but not enough to have stopped his fidgits. "And you?"
"Father d'Alessio and I are travelling the colony this season, reminding all the faithful here of the word of the Teacher." He looks out at the woods, and then down at his knees again. "There have also been some... matters of some concern, that we're investigating as we travel."
At this, there is a sharp cracking sound, and both of them start - Father d'Alessio has put his hat down on the arm of the chaise, knocking a dent out of the brim in the process. "Those are official church matters, Arturo. If you do not mind, I shall explain to Sera de Montfort why it is we are here."
He does, indeed, speak at great length about the local villages and the various transgressions that have been reported and what was done about them. They are common enough matters - a theft of someone's jewels, an argument between lovers turned violent, a dispute over farmland - and d'Alessio describes them in such pedantic detail that despite wishing to hear the conclusion of the stories, Aravina finds her attention wandering. Father d'Alessio's hat looks somewhat battered, and she looks at the tassels a little more; small wonder that the knots will not stay, as years of tying and retying have left the braid shiny and worn. As, she notes ruefully, are the arms of the chaise; perhaps new covers for the chaise, or hangings over the arms if the accounts will not allow too much expense.
She glances at the other arm of the chaise and sees that Reverend Fenwick is also finding d'Alessio's story rather lengthy, as he has taken out his sermon-book and is studiously looking at the cover, with occasional glances out of the window. He catches Aravina's glance, his eyes sympathetic, and mouths Praise be to the Teacher, a slight tilt of the head indicating d'Alessio. Aravina stifles a laugh by coughing, which mercifully causes d'Alessio to pause in his retelling.
"Are you quite well, Sera de Montfort? Perhaps we should return later..."
The pause is enough for her to regain her composure. "No, thank you, Father, I am well. I'm overjoyed to hear of your successes in your travels" - at this, d'Alessio's usual stern expression softens a little into a smile - "but could I ask you if there is anything we could do for you here? As you say, you have had much success with the aid of the village priests, and what little I can help you with myself is my own household."
"Ah, yes. Hrrm. Arturo, your notebook."
Fenwick looks a little startled, and hands over his sermon book to d'Alessio, who leafs through it from the last page, and stops, jabbing a finger at a short list written on one sheet.
"You have hired new workers recently, am I correct?"
"Yes, Father. They all came with excellent recommendations and the Reverend talked to them himself. Some of those who follow the Smith or the Merchant have met with the local priests of those faiths."
"Hrmph. And this..." He traces his finger down the list, resting it just below the last entry. "You have one of the natives in your employ?"
"Ah. Yes. The name I've heard for her race is 'facet'."
d'Alessio taps his fingers on the book. "I have heard worrying rumours about what these natives do. Are you encouraging her in heathen idolatry?"
Aravina straightens a little more at this, and looks at d'Alessio, her gaze firm, until he harrumphs again. "I have asked her about her faith, Father. As far as she is aware she is not devoted to any god, but has been reading about theology in my library and learning about the Gods - the True Gods - in that way. I was hoping to-"
"Are you sure you can trust the word of one of the natives on this, Sera de Montfort? After all, with their-"
She holds up a hand. "Father, please allow me to finish what I was saying." d'Alessio's eyes are narrowed, his face sterner than usual, but he nods for her to continue. "Thank you. I was hoping to introduce her to the Reverend when there was time, and I'm afraid that the preparations for last week's ball made this difficult. However, if the Reverend is free to stay for dinner this evening, they could be introduced and we could discuss spiritual matters properly then."
"I have a letter about this sent to me a week ago," Fenwick adds. "This week was the earliest we could arrive here on the journey through the colony; if you don't object, Father, I'd be happy to stay and preach."
At this, d'Alessio raises his eyebrows and looks at Fenwick for a few moments, then hands him back the sermon book. "I will continue on the survey alone until Castelvecchio, and will meet you there in three days, Arturo. Do not be late." He stands, bows to Aravina, inclines his head to Reverend Fenwick and then takes his hat and moves to leave.
He is met at the door, now open, by Emma, who drops him a careful, shallow curtsey while holding a tea tray, and Potch, whose curtsey is deeper but less assured. d'Alessio stays at the door, watching, until both of them have passed him, and does not take his eyes off Potch until he has closed the door behind him.
----
With d'Alessio gone, the mood is a little lighter. Potch and Reverend Fenwick are introduced, and Emma serves tea and then takes Aravina aside to ask about a few household matters - a dispute between the gardeners about the best use of the herb garden, and a somewhat more delicate problem involving one of the kitchen maids that makes Aravina blush and cast a quick glance at the Reverend, who by now appears to be deep in conversation.
"I was sure the herb garden had been planned out, but I'll need the original papers to make certain of it - the planting can wait two or three days in this weather, can't it? And as for Helen's, ah, difficulties..." Aravina lowers her voice. "I'll send for the surgeon right away, and make sure the man responsible is punished appropriately. You have informed Ser de Bridgemont, I assume?"
"That was why I was so late returning with the tea, lady. He knows, and he's made sure that the man's locked up." Emma also looks over at the Reverend briefly. "Will the priests want to know about it?"
Aravina sighs. "Yes. Father d'Alessio would certainly like to know about this, I'd imagine, given the stories he was telling earlier. And it is - or, at least, it certainly will be - a matter of law." She once again glances at Reverend Fenwick, whose conversation with Potch seems to have progressed to an earnest argument, with the Reverend gesturing at his sermon book with more force than usual.
After a few more words to Emma, Aravina returns to her seat, where Emma pours her more tea and then leaves. Reverend Fenwick falls suddenly quiet at the sound of the door opening as she departs, turns nervously towards the door, then blinks and shakes his head.
"I do apologise, Sera Aravina. Please remind me - your library does have a copy of the Five-Fold Theology, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does. Potch, would you show Reverend Fenwick the library?" Potch nods eagerly and stands, while Aravina smiles. "I'm afraid the library was somewhat neglected until she arrived - I've had too little time to spend in it, with the household so busy - but I am sure she knows what books of theology are in the library better than I."
"I haven't read all of them, milady," Potch murmurs, which draws a chuckle from Reverend Fenwick as he also stands.
"I'm not sure I agree with your conclusions on Orian's opinions, Sera Potch, but I haven't read his book very recently and would welcome a chance to refresh my memory. Sera Aravina, when should we attend for dinner?"
"Emma will call you. Please don't hurry on my account; I would have introduced the two of you sooner if it hadn't been for the ball, and it seems that you have a lot to discuss."
Reverend Fenwick and Potch take their leave and depart for the library, continuing their animated conversation before they are even out of the room, and Aravina returns to her papers and the rest of her tea, the latter heartening enough to prepare her to face the former once more.
With the ball itself a success, there follows a week that is quieter but no less busy, as many of the guests take advantage of their hosts' hospitality for a few days more. Aravina herself is busy with the thousand tasks that follow any large celebration, and when Emma finally finds her it is at her writing desk in her study, her brow furrowed as she compares several lists.
"Tea, my lady." Aravina looks up, startled, to see Emma smiling and offering a cup.
"...Thank you, Emma. I must have lost all track of time. Is it lunch yet?"
"Two hours past. Ser de Bridgemont was worried about where you were so sent me to look for you. I told him that you'd most likely be reading through the agricultural accounts, but he insisted that farming manifests couldn't be so interesting as to miss Lucy's cooking for them."
Aravina smiles, takes the offered tea cup and moves the lists to one side to place its saucer on her desk. "Not so much interesting, as impenetrable. Several of these farms are smallholds with workers from other colonies, and they all insist on being paid in whichever coinage they know from home. If they'd at least be polite and take their pay in marks, it would simplify matters so much."
"Smallholds in Flembic lands?"
"Yes, that's what puzzles me. What good is having your pay in kyat or ducatto if you can't spend it?" She sighs, and takes another sip of tea.
"You did mention that you were looking for something for Potch to do," Emma says. "If she's as skilled with accounting as you said, could she not study the accounts for you?"
Aravina thinks for a while, sipping at her tea, and taking occasional glances at the lists beside the saucer. Emma waits for a reply, still holding the tray with a teapot on it, watching Aravina's expression and the reluctance with which she looks at her accounting. Finally, Aravina nods, and places her cup down, only the dregs left.
"I'll talk to her, and see if she can solve some of this arithmetic more easily than I can. It ought to be my responsibility, though."
"Begging your pardon, lady, but it ought to be Ser de Bridgemont's responsibility after he let Mister Farnham go." Aravina looks at her, eyebrows raised, and Emma nods. "He told us that he'd be taking on the administrative tasks, since the understeward also left. Nobody else had the training or the right head for figures, but he's made no mention of appointing someone else in four months."
"Hm." Aravina purses her lips, and looks at her tea cup again. "I've seen the house accounts since Farnham left, and they have no mistakes, but you're right. And leaving this all to Nicholas on his own is unwise. I'll start making enquiries about a new steward and understeward. Is that all?"
There is a knock at the door, and an ostentatious cough from outside. Emma gives Aravina a small, tight smile, and pours her another cup of tea.
"Father d'Alessio and Reverend Fenwick to see you, lady. They said they'd wanted to talk to you earlier this week but you were otherwise engaged, and Father d'Alessio also said that the ball wouldn't have been an appropriate place to discuss spiritual matters."
Aravina freezes, tea cup in her hand, raised halfway to her mouth. "Did they say what they wanted to discuss? Surely Reverend Fenwick knows more about the spiritual health of the household than I do. And Father d'Alessio wouldn't visit unless there were a problem."
"I understand Reverend Fenwick is visiting all the local households to preach, and Father d'Alessio wanted to accompany him on some of his visits. I've not heard more than that, lady."
Another knock at the door, this one more insistent, and Emma looks at Aravina with sympathy. "Shall I tell them you'll see them, and then fetch more tea?"
"Yes. Please do. Could you also find Potch and fetch her as well? I'd meant to introduce her and the Reverend, but there simply hasn't been the time."
"Of course."
----
Aravina's study is one of the smaller rooms in the house, but well-lit, and with several large windows that look out onto the lawn and the woods beyond. On quiet days she is as often found in her study as out of it, and the chaise and table are there for any visitors who might find her there. This afternoon, the priests have taken the chaise while Aravina moves her writing chair over. Reverend Fenwick is looking somewhat embarrassed, and Father d'Alessio is neatening the tassels on his hat, straightening them and then retying the knots, only to unpick them with a sigh when the ends are uneven. Emma has gone for more tea, and there is a silence that grows more uncomfortable.
"...Sera Aravina," Fenwick finally says, breaking the silence. "How is your household?"
d'Alessio continues to fuss with his hat. Aravina glances at the hat, and smiles gracefully at Reverend Fenwick. "Very well, thank you. The shrine is being kept well by my cousin, and there is a legal case that some more evidence has been found for that we should now be able to resolve." She looks once again at d'Alessio, who appears to have made some progress with the complex knotting, but not enough to have stopped his fidgits. "And you?"
"Father d'Alessio and I are travelling the colony this season, reminding all the faithful here of the word of the Teacher." He looks out at the woods, and then down at his knees again. "There have also been some... matters of some concern, that we're investigating as we travel."
At this, there is a sharp cracking sound, and both of them start - Father d'Alessio has put his hat down on the arm of the chaise, knocking a dent out of the brim in the process. "Those are official church matters, Arturo. If you do not mind, I shall explain to Sera de Montfort why it is we are here."
He does, indeed, speak at great length about the local villages and the various transgressions that have been reported and what was done about them. They are common enough matters - a theft of someone's jewels, an argument between lovers turned violent, a dispute over farmland - and d'Alessio describes them in such pedantic detail that despite wishing to hear the conclusion of the stories, Aravina finds her attention wandering. Father d'Alessio's hat looks somewhat battered, and she looks at the tassels a little more; small wonder that the knots will not stay, as years of tying and retying have left the braid shiny and worn. As, she notes ruefully, are the arms of the chaise; perhaps new covers for the chaise, or hangings over the arms if the accounts will not allow too much expense.
She glances at the other arm of the chaise and sees that Reverend Fenwick is also finding d'Alessio's story rather lengthy, as he has taken out his sermon-book and is studiously looking at the cover, with occasional glances out of the window. He catches Aravina's glance, his eyes sympathetic, and mouths Praise be to the Teacher, a slight tilt of the head indicating d'Alessio. Aravina stifles a laugh by coughing, which mercifully causes d'Alessio to pause in his retelling.
"Are you quite well, Sera de Montfort? Perhaps we should return later..."
The pause is enough for her to regain her composure. "No, thank you, Father, I am well. I'm overjoyed to hear of your successes in your travels" - at this, d'Alessio's usual stern expression softens a little into a smile - "but could I ask you if there is anything we could do for you here? As you say, you have had much success with the aid of the village priests, and what little I can help you with myself is my own household."
"Ah, yes. Hrrm. Arturo, your notebook."
Fenwick looks a little startled, and hands over his sermon book to d'Alessio, who leafs through it from the last page, and stops, jabbing a finger at a short list written on one sheet.
"You have hired new workers recently, am I correct?"
"Yes, Father. They all came with excellent recommendations and the Reverend talked to them himself. Some of those who follow the Smith or the Merchant have met with the local priests of those faiths."
"Hrmph. And this..." He traces his finger down the list, resting it just below the last entry. "You have one of the natives in your employ?"
"Ah. Yes. The name I've heard for her race is 'facet'."
d'Alessio taps his fingers on the book. "I have heard worrying rumours about what these natives do. Are you encouraging her in heathen idolatry?"
Aravina straightens a little more at this, and looks at d'Alessio, her gaze firm, until he harrumphs again. "I have asked her about her faith, Father. As far as she is aware she is not devoted to any god, but has been reading about theology in my library and learning about the Gods - the True Gods - in that way. I was hoping to-"
"Are you sure you can trust the word of one of the natives on this, Sera de Montfort? After all, with their-"
She holds up a hand. "Father, please allow me to finish what I was saying." d'Alessio's eyes are narrowed, his face sterner than usual, but he nods for her to continue. "Thank you. I was hoping to introduce her to the Reverend when there was time, and I'm afraid that the preparations for last week's ball made this difficult. However, if the Reverend is free to stay for dinner this evening, they could be introduced and we could discuss spiritual matters properly then."
"I have a letter about this sent to me a week ago," Fenwick adds. "This week was the earliest we could arrive here on the journey through the colony; if you don't object, Father, I'd be happy to stay and preach."
At this, d'Alessio raises his eyebrows and looks at Fenwick for a few moments, then hands him back the sermon book. "I will continue on the survey alone until Castelvecchio, and will meet you there in three days, Arturo. Do not be late." He stands, bows to Aravina, inclines his head to Reverend Fenwick and then takes his hat and moves to leave.
He is met at the door, now open, by Emma, who drops him a careful, shallow curtsey while holding a tea tray, and Potch, whose curtsey is deeper but less assured. d'Alessio stays at the door, watching, until both of them have passed him, and does not take his eyes off Potch until he has closed the door behind him.
----
With d'Alessio gone, the mood is a little lighter. Potch and Reverend Fenwick are introduced, and Emma serves tea and then takes Aravina aside to ask about a few household matters - a dispute between the gardeners about the best use of the herb garden, and a somewhat more delicate problem involving one of the kitchen maids that makes Aravina blush and cast a quick glance at the Reverend, who by now appears to be deep in conversation.
"I was sure the herb garden had been planned out, but I'll need the original papers to make certain of it - the planting can wait two or three days in this weather, can't it? And as for Helen's, ah, difficulties..." Aravina lowers her voice. "I'll send for the surgeon right away, and make sure the man responsible is punished appropriately. You have informed Ser de Bridgemont, I assume?"
"That was why I was so late returning with the tea, lady. He knows, and he's made sure that the man's locked up." Emma also looks over at the Reverend briefly. "Will the priests want to know about it?"
Aravina sighs. "Yes. Father d'Alessio would certainly like to know about this, I'd imagine, given the stories he was telling earlier. And it is - or, at least, it certainly will be - a matter of law." She once again glances at Reverend Fenwick, whose conversation with Potch seems to have progressed to an earnest argument, with the Reverend gesturing at his sermon book with more force than usual.
After a few more words to Emma, Aravina returns to her seat, where Emma pours her more tea and then leaves. Reverend Fenwick falls suddenly quiet at the sound of the door opening as she departs, turns nervously towards the door, then blinks and shakes his head.
"I do apologise, Sera Aravina. Please remind me - your library does have a copy of the Five-Fold Theology, doesn't it?"
"Yes, it does. Potch, would you show Reverend Fenwick the library?" Potch nods eagerly and stands, while Aravina smiles. "I'm afraid the library was somewhat neglected until she arrived - I've had too little time to spend in it, with the household so busy - but I am sure she knows what books of theology are in the library better than I."
"I haven't read all of them, milady," Potch murmurs, which draws a chuckle from Reverend Fenwick as he also stands.
"I'm not sure I agree with your conclusions on Orian's opinions, Sera Potch, but I haven't read his book very recently and would welcome a chance to refresh my memory. Sera Aravina, when should we attend for dinner?"
"Emma will call you. Please don't hurry on my account; I would have introduced the two of you sooner if it hadn't been for the ball, and it seems that you have a lot to discuss."
Reverend Fenwick and Potch take their leave and depart for the library, continuing their animated conversation before they are even out of the room, and Aravina returns to her papers and the rest of her tea, the latter heartening enough to prepare her to face the former once more.
