Good Intentions and Terribly Dangerous Ideas



Odessa and Unalmis Raxëlilta
with a visiting Anardil Thavron
Family residence on the First Circle, Six Years Ago approx



Odessa and Unalmis Raxëlilta
with a visiting Anardil Thavron
Family residence on the First Circle, Six Years Ago approx
It was no surprise to Odessa that the moment she saw fit to sit down, a knock at the door suggested she get right back on her feet again. The woman of Gondor felt as though she had not stopped. It was not even as though the pair of patients she had finally brought home were constantly calling for her assistance. If anything, the opposite was true. They did not call, they did not ask. They tried to muddle along on their own. And that led to more near misses, more spills, and more frustration all around. Whoever or whatever was on the other side of the door now, she did not expect it to be any cause for her day to become any less exhausting. Bill collectors ? ‘Concerned’ (aka nosy) neighbours ? She may never have been a Ranger or a soldier. But as a woman she had her own battles to fight. And keeping this house (and it’s inhabitants) running felt like a war at times. She rallied the strength to reach and open it all the same. What choice was there really ? One of the two men upstairs who ought to be sleeping, had finally begun to The last thing she required was any sort of chaos which would wake him back up.
The young man who she found then standing on her front step gave the woman pause, time enough to take in the bag of luggage half hidden behind his back, sense enough to recognise the proud insignia upon his garb. House Azrubel. For a split second, she toyed with slamming the door in his face. The last time somebody from Lond Col had come calling, that had been the last time she saw her son or grandson for over a month. In the last split second of indecision though, she recognised her great-nephew by marriage. This was the son of Sirdis. The grandson of Selene, who was sister to Odessa’s late husband. Now what was his name again .. ? Ah yes ..
“Good morning, Auntie,” the unexpected arrival actually dipped his head down from it’s great height, as the woman propped herself up in the wooden frame. “My mother and the Lady Eressild sent me, to manage the matter of payment for your son and grandsons’ recent treatment at the Houses of Healing. It has all been taken care of, this very morning. But while I am here, in town, they bade me make enquiries. Is there anything else that I can do for you ? For they can spare me, for so long as you may nee ..”
There was scarce chance for the young man to finish his offer before he was welcomed in and invited to sit down, for a cup of tea. Which he countered just as swiftly with an offer to make one for each of them. If she would only be so kind to point him toward the kitchen. It had after all been nearly six years since he had last called at their house. More was the pity.
“I really can not let you pay for all the .. all of it.” Odessa relented to pride over persuasion as they sipped each from a warm brew. She had asked after and received news by this point, of the other’s mother and family, of all those that he knew that she could recall. All of whom he politely assured her were well. The House of Azrubel were tending to the families of each of the sailors lost in the recent .. incident. And the understanding of quite how far the noble family had spread their charity did not escape the most distant perhaps to receive it.
“You would not have me disobey an order from the Lady of Lond Col,” Anardil shook his head slowly without proper rebuke, but rather a half smile. He had no need to say more. Whether it had been the pilgrim thought of Sirdis to extend this kindness, the fact of the young man having come in person all this way had the signature of the more challenging Eressild written all over it. Nobody refused the Lady Eressild Azrubel. Odessa sank back in her chair.
She had managed to scrape together enough to pay for the healers treatment herself, though it would mean foregoing the bills of running their home for .. she was not sure how long. So that meant dodging a few collectors for a while. And if she stayed home from work to take care of the two who could not take care of themselves at the moment .. then she could not make up what they already were short, much less carry on that way for much longer. She really did not want to accept the help, but honestly, she was not sure how they were going to manage if she did not. Addhor wasn’t earning yet, despite his recent plans to try and take up a new trade. So if she did not accept the help that family were offering … they would lose the house before her son ever started earning enough to help her maintain it. And now Unalmis’s own hopes to enter the Rangers would be postponed until he was recovered enough as well. Though to be honest his grandmother was not so disappointed on that score, and was rather hoping the young man would find some less dangerous occupation in the meantime.
In the end, Odessa reminded herself that they would not be in this mess if a stranger arrived on a ship from Lond Col had not come a calling. She did not blame House Azrubel for getting deceived, same as she had, by the Burned Man. But it made it a little easier to accept that they felt partially responsible. And wanted to make it right. Silently she made a vow all the same, that she would make it right with them, as soon as she was able to do so.
“I should not dare,” she smiled more widely, in a conspiratorial fashion. To which her great nephew nodded, resolute.
“I have given my word to stay in the city for as long as you may find a use for me,” he assured her, dropping eyes toward his bag as evidence to support the intention.
“Well you shall stay here, of course,” the older woman rushed to at least play hostess, even though it felt rather like handing over charge in her own home. “Last time you shared room with Unalmis, didn’t you ?”
“I will sleep in a coal scuttle if it suits you Auntie,” she was assured, and almost laughed.
“You might prefer to, for I can not say he will afford you much sleep at the moment. But you remember, of course.” Odessa sought briefly for the semblance of that young man who had come to stay with them before, very much at odds with himself after his widowed mother’s choice to marry .. Lord Edhelmir of all people.
“My cousin will have grown some since the last time I was here,” the guest observed, calmly. There was an age gap of nearly 15 years between the visitor and his cousin, who he recalled as a rather rambunctious nine year old, the last time they had seen one another.
“Some,” that young man’s grandmother conceded. “Although ..” she began and then shook her head, unable or unwilling to continue. “Finish your tea and we will go up and reintroduce you.”
“We will not wake him ?” concerned the Belfalasian.
“I doubt very much of that,” he was assured.
The houses on the First Circle were not known for rivalling the size of Castle Azrubel, not by any means, But Anardil had spent time in his grandfather’s equally modest home back in Lond Col before he was took into service. Before he had come to visit in this house the last time. As they climbed the stairs to the first floor, the Belfalasian recognised the size and shape of the last time he had been here. He even knew to turn not into either of the two bedrooms but toward the further set of stairs which led into the attic. The were not the only family on the street to have converted this extra room to accommodate the family. In fact it was rare not to find a house with a similar set up.
It was equally rare to enter and find Unalmis asleep, so Odessa was wise enough to pull aside the blanket that the young man was apparently dozing quietly under. Though nothing untoward was revealed except one wily brown eye, checking if she believed him asleep … , the old woman possessed brown eyes of her own, still keen enough to mark a small pile of discarded clothes, moving of their own accord across the floor in a dishevelled and confused state. Anardil raised both eyebrows in apparent astoundment as his great aunt strode over and retrieved a small cat from beneath the now unfolded laundry.
“You can not have a cat in here, with the window wide open, it will fall out,” she protested, stroking the small feline in both arms, with an apologetic look toward her nephew.
“But she came in through the open window,” Nal gave up any ruse of pretending to have been asleep, and sat up, albeit slowly, with both pillows falling off the bed from behind him as he did so. His right arm was hung in a sling across his chest, but it did not seem to be hampering his tendency for trouble. Anardil observed his now barely sixteen year old cousin, and found Odessa’s conclusion to have been apt. The adolescent had grown .. some .. though he did not seem to have much matured.
“Well, then I’m definitely going to close this window now, before I come up and find you herding a great host of cats about the room,” the weary grandmother decided. “You remember your cousin, Anardil, from Lond Col ? He’s going to be staying with us for a while. I’ll make up the bed for you later, dear,” Odessa assured her houseguest. “If you’ll just excuse me, I’d better take this back outside ..”
The two watched her depart, cat scrabbling to escape all of the way as she did. Deeming it an early opportunity to prove useful, Anardil crossed the room in moments with his great stride, dropped his bag beside the spare bed and latched the window to a close.
“I remember you,” Unalmis let his cousin know, as though this deed confirmed it. And before he could offer an opinion or exchange further than that, the younger had turned away, and occupied himself in trying to pull the blanket back over himself, one handed. Holding back a sense of amusement at this hilariously infantile defiance, Anardil made his second act one of assistance, and retrieved the lost pillows.
“You didn’t eat your food,” he observed then, judging from the plate upon the bedside table.
“I did,” Nal assured him. “She keeps making more. How long are you staying ?”
“That depends how long your grandmother needs my help.” The statement met no response and in time, the elder cousin gave in. With an almost wistful glance back over his shoulder, Anardil nodded just once more, in farewell, and then set off back down to help break up what sounded like an escaped cat destroying the kitchen downstairs.
Unalmis had thought he would count to a hundred to be certain, but grew impatient before he even reached seventy, and carefully disentangled himself from the bedsheets. Crossing the room, he made sure to avoid each of the floorboards which he knew made a treacherous creaking sound. Convinced that nobody was coming back at any moment, he eased the equally old door on protesting hinges to grant him a barricade of cover. Then he made his way across to the spare bed, ignoring his cousin’s luggage in favour of strolling his free hand idly across the top of the bed. This was where Ryndir had always slept, whenever he had come to spend the night. None of the parents wanted all of the boys under one roof at once, so Trev had grown quite good at sneaking out to the treehouse from next door, and then across the branch to join them when he was meant to already be asleep in his own room. Unalmis regarded the treehouse now, set at what suddenly seemed the very far end of that same mighty branch they had shimmied or walked or even run along, over the years. There was nothing else for it. He was going to have to go across himself, and now. Because there would be extra eyes now, extra ears, to stop him trying .. And if he knew Trevadir like he believed that he did. He had to get over there and check on him. Neither little Toby or GrammyU would be able to climb up into the treehouse. And he’d done it himself many many times before. Really, it wasn’t so ridiculous. He could definitely do this. Hopefully this time without some wild cat deciding to come in and kick the fresh laundry all about the floor. Trying to catch it one handed and urge it back outside without closing the window .. had proven impossible.
So taking no further time to talk himself out of it, now that the cat was out of the equation, practiced fingers unlatched the window, and eased the glass pane outwards from the side of the house. With a last wary glance behind him, Unalmis climbed onto the bed, where he wobbled ever so slightly without his second arm to steady him as he stood up, and began to ease himself out through the frame.
The treehouse was littered with pinecones at it’s base which had been thrown to no avail, in hopes of gaining Trevadir’s attention. More than once during his balancing act, Unalmis felt that he too would be soon lying amongst them on the grass below; a final failed attempt to reach out to his unresponsive friend. But somehow, with a lot of pausing, a precarious teetering of balance, and a near disastrous panic as his grandmother loosed the cat noisily out of the kitchen door downstairs .. Unalmis closed his eyes and ran the last few steps, trusting to momentum more than anything else to take him to his destination.
After a moment to catch his breath, clinging to the outside of their makeshift refuge in the tree, the young man stepped carefully over the drawn rope ladder which had been pulled up and tied. It did not look as though Trevadir wanted any visitors. But recent months had taught them all that sometimes you do not get what you want. So what Trevadir got, that late morning, was Unalmis calmly letting himself in a rather graceless scramble through the open door and settling down into a crosslegged position against the wall, opposite to where his obstinate friend was slumped. The only bandaged hand that Nal could make proper use of, found a hard green conker close enough to grasp. A hole had been bored through it, but no string had ever followed suit. Without a word, he rolled it lazily across the wooden platform floor, toward his friend, unsure if Trev would stir to catch it, or continue to prove as unresponsive now as Ryndir would ever be.


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