Remembering

Writers: Eimi, Vix
Date Posted: 19th March 2008

Characters: Benaroy, Benaran
Description: Benaroy and Benaran observe a special day
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 9, day 13 of Turn 4

Benaran sighed as he entered his father's office. "I just sent Benider out for a long walk in the snow. He misses her and can't seem to wrap his mind around anything else today."

His father stood at his favorite window, his shoulders stooped, making him look much smaller than he truly was. Every turn of his hard life seemed to be written onto his face as he stared out across the fields and orchards to the snow-covered hills off in the distance. It took him a moment to realize he had been spoken to. "I'm sorry. What did you say?" he asked, turning his head to look at his second son. His eyes, usually sharp and bright were dull and full of shadows as he looked at Benaran almost as if he were a ghost from the past come to call on him.

The younger man looked at his father appraisingly, nodding. "You too, eh? We can't escape this day and what we usually celebrate on it, can we?"

Benaroy's voice was as empty as his eyes. "I think my daughter's dead."

Benaran started at those words, his own voice sharp. "Have you heard some news?"

His father shook his head slowly. "No. Nothing. For months, there has been nothing. No ransom, no word. She must be dead."

"I disagree." The son's voice was adamant. "Something is keeping her from returning, whether it be a physical barrier or reasons of her own, but she's not dead. Somewhere she's still fighting on and will return."

"If she was taken by force, there would be no reason for it but for money. No randsom has been demanded, and the longer we hear nothing, the more likely it is that no demand will be made. They cannot afford to just keep a Lord Holder's daughter for no reason. They would either have to randsom her, or lose her. Either she died, or escaped, and in this winter cold holdless, she'd be as good as dead." After all, if she had made it to a Hold, he would have been the first to have been told. "And if she has left us for her own reasons with no hint or clue to ease the pain and worry of her family and bring shame down on their name, then she is not the Royani I know." Royani had always been so attentive to her father's needs. She had doted on him, loved him. Benaroy's daughter would not purposefully hurt him in such a cruel and selfish manner. "Either way, my daughter is dead."

Benaran shook his head. "First of all, my sister would not wander off on her own like that. That's entirely out of character for her. As to being dead, I doubt it. I've no idea why there has been no ransom asked, but I do know that if Royani had escaped, she would continue to fight until she did get back here. She's a true member of this family, which makes her a fighter, a survivor. She may end up down, she may be sick or injured, but somewhere she's still doing her best to get back here."

Benaroy almost wanted to scoff at the fact that his son could be that naive. How could he hold onto hope so strongly when everything pointed to the fact that she was gone and was never coming back.

But then, he saw something in the young man's face that made him pause. The forehead, the mouth, the bridge of the nose, the hair... They were all reflections of himself in Benaran. Wasn't he almost exactly Benaran's age when he had assumed the Lord Holdership of Amber Hills, with a wife and two sons that were now barely a memory, and surrounded by faces - Faranth, so many faces - that had passed into shadow. Weren't the words coming from his son's lips exactly the ones that would have come from his own at that age? Back then he was full of youthful optimism, misplaced trust, foolish and blind hope. When the first whispers of a sickness reached his ears, hadn't he so firmly believed nothing could touch his Hold? Hadn't he been so sure that those first few victims would be the last. Didn't he have so much faith in the healers that they had done everything necessary to protect the infection from spreading that he had not spirited his family away from that accursed plague? Hadn't he held out hope for a cure to come as his own wife fell ill? And hadn't he clung desperately to that hope as he held the feverish body of his six-turn old son, his heir, his dream for the future, as the boy struggled to survive.

His eyes clouded with tears as he looked at his son. Benaran's face distorted until he could not distinguish his son from himself at that age. Over the last 45 turns Benaroy had buried three wives, two sons, two daughters, and countless loved ones. All hope he had ever possessed had been dashed to pieces long ago. In his heart he truly believed he would never lay eyes on his daughter again. But his son still clung to hope. Could he really be the one to kill it? You never knew how important hope really was to a man's soul until it was gone.

"Of course, you are right," he finally nodded, his voice strained with the knowledge that the words passing through his lips were a lie, but a beautiful one. "Royani will come home to us."

"Exactly what I told Benider," stated the younger man. "Today, on her birthingday, we will remember not that she's gone, but that she's a survivor and will return."

Benaroy couldn't look at his son's confident expression, and instead turned to look back out over the hills. "And how shall we celebrate this day?"

"A family dinner," Benaran answered immediately, "complete with her favorite foods. We'll join together and speak of her - something we've not done during the time that she's been gone - and tell of our memories of times she has shown strength. We'll cry over her, if need be, but we'll also remind ourselves of her true character."

**A memorial?** Oh Faranth, his optimism was painful. He kept his eyes turned away from him, allowing tears to fall silently and hopefully unnoticed. "Good. Yes. Let's do that. Please make the arrangements with the Headwoman. She will know what foods..."

"I'll take care of it right away." Benaran started for the door, but halted, hand on the ornate handle. "She _will_ return, you know."

The Lord Holder just wished he would go. He just needed a moment to grieve for his daughter in peace. "Yes, yes of course she will."

Benaran nodded sharply and left the room, wondering if it would be as easy to convince his son that Royani still lived.

Last updated on the March 19th 2008

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Remembering