A Sad Birthingday

Writers: Jane, Kaysea
Date Posted: 9th June 2008

Characters: Misara, Zandreu
Description: Misara is upset on Treast's birthingday, the first one since his death, and Zandreu tries hard to be a comfort.
Location: Vintner Hall
Date: month 10, day 8 of Turn 4

Wiping her eyes, Misara made her way along the hallway towards the kitchen and laundry, the basket of bedding balanced precariously on her hip. She sniffled a little into the kerchief she held, and hoped her eyes weren't as red as they had been that morning when she had left the small cot she and the children shared. It would have been Treast's forty-fourth birthingday that day - if he had still been alive. The first of his birthingdays since his death - no celebration - just painful, and not so painful, memories of the man she had given herself to so many turns ago.

She was dabbing at the corner of her eye again when she turned the corner into the kitchen and bumped smack dab into the new Tavern Master.
"Oh shards, sorry Zandreu!" she said, her voice sounded stuffy even to her, but she hoped he wouldn't notice.

"You're not _sick_ are you?" he asked worriedly. The widow might not work in the public rooms or kitchens but even so he didn't like to take chances on having sickness around a place so well patronised by the public.

"No ... not sick." She shook her head. "Just the sniffles." She bundled the laundry onto the opposite hip, while avoiding his eyes. "I just need to start the washing and stay inside and it'll clear up." She tried to sound assured, but knew her voice still held some emotion despite her best efforts.

"Spring's barely started. Are you sure nothing's wrong? Are the children all right?"

"The children are fine..." she nodded, a felt fresh tears stinging her eyes. "It's...it's nothing." she tried to reassure him again, as she made her way through the kitchen to the laundry room.

The Tavern Master found himself following the woman. "It's not nothing and it's not sniffles."

"No, you're right. It's not." Misara answered finally, as she plonked the bacet of dirty linens on the laundry work bench. "It would have been Treast's birthingday today, if he had lived," she said, and felt the tears fall down across her cheeks again. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bring my woes with me today... but..." she shrugged her shoulders and turned from Zandreu.

"There, there," he said inadequately, patting her shoulder and fishing in his pocket for a handkerchief. Did he even have a clean one on him?
"It's right that you should be ... sad." It would be nice if 'sad' didn't involve tears, but that didn't seem likely.

"I'll be fine... honest. I just need to be on my own today." her whole body shook with her sobs. She wiped at her eyes with an already soaking kerchief, then saw the one Zandreu offered and smiled. They hadn't gotten off on a good footing, but he was trying his best now to make her feel better, and for that she was grateful.

"Would you like to go home?"

"Oh no..." she shook her head, "No, I'd be worse if I had to spend the day on my own." she pulled away. "The children are with the harpers most of the day, which leaves me with no one to talk to. I'll be better here, I can stay out of the customers way by spending the time in the laundry and helping in the kitchen, today, if you want me to?"

"I think that would be best. I don't suppose you want to answer lots of questions," he said, aware that he had been pestering her for those very answers. "And if you want some privacy you just go into my office. I'm not using it much these days."

"Thank you." she looked up at him, trying to look a little brighter.
"I'll have enough work to keep me busy for a few candlemarks, at least."
she nodded.

What else could he suggest? His mind was blank for a moment and then he said: "And you could have your midday meal with me." He cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Rather than having it alone." She probably would have eaten with some of the other staff, he thought belatedly, but could hardly retract his offer.

"You don't want me moping around, ruining your midday meal," she said with the hint of a genuine smile. She was surprised but pleased he had made the effort of an offer, though she doubted he really wanted to.

"I've ruined a few meals in my time, with not nearly as good reason.
I'll be eating out in the main room at midday. You can join me if you like, Misara. It's up to you."

"Thank you, Zandreu," she nodded, not committing one way or the other.
She needed to sort herself out before the noon meal started, otherwise se really would ruin the meal for anyone in the dining room at the time.
"I really should get on with this..." she said, indicating the pile of washing she had upended across the laundry floor.

"Ah, yes." There wasn't much he could do to help with that and would more likely just be in the way. "I'll leave you to it," he muttered, feeling as if there was something more comforting he should end the conversation with - but what could he say? Her husband was dead and she was miserable on the day that would have been his birthingday. It wasn't something he could _fix_. He nodded and escaped. It seemed like the only thing he could do.

Last updated on the June 15th 2008

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A Sad Birthingday