A Slap on the Wrist

Writers: Yvonne
Date Posted: 13th June 2008

Characters: Cyrek, Mariss
Description: Mariss is back to her old tricks, and her father does not approve
Location: Amber Hills Hold
Date: month 9, day 14 of Turn 4

Mariss brushed the snow off her boots before slipping back into the Hold and padding quietly down the halls back toward the apartment she shared with her father. It was nearing dusk and if she hurried she'd still be in time for dinner, and her father wouldn't know that she'd been out at all... Cyrek had forbidden her to walk outside alone, but Mariss craved the crisp winter air and solitude, and couldn't bear the thought of cowering in her rooms because of what had happened. Even still, she stuck close to the Hold and her heart beat a little faster every time she heard someone's footsteps in the snow behind her.

She pushed open the apartment door and glanced hurriedly at the candle marking time in the corner. ~Good.~ Dinner had only just begun--

"And where were you?"

Mariss nearly jumped out of her skin. Cyrek sat in one of the twinned brown chairs by the fire, his hands folded over his belly and a drowsy bronze Trouble wrapped tight around his neck and shoulders. His expression was mild, but Mariss flushed guiltilly all the same. "Ah- well, I needed to... go out."

The Steward raised an eyebrow. "Really? Outside? Whatever for? Your understeward duties ought not to have taken you out of doors." Trouble stirred and twittered unhappily.

Her coat felt heavy and overly conspicuous. Mariss could feel the seconds slipping past as she desperatly tried to think of something to say that he would believe. "I..."

"You were out walking, weren't you. _Alone_." Cyrek rubbed his hands against his face tiredly. Why didn't she ever _listen_? It was his own fault for raising a wilful daughter. "What did I say about that? You're not to go walking alone anymore! It's almost dark. Anything could have happened!"

"What makes you think I was alone?" Mariss shot back. She hung up her coat carefully before bending down to untie her boots. The white fur that wrapped around her calves tickled her fingers as she loosened the laces and did her best not to look at her father. Maybe if she didn't look, he'd believe her...

"_Mariss_."

It was all he had to say. How parents could pack so much meaning into the syllables of someone's name was a mystery, but Mariss felt her shoulders hunch defensively all the same. "All right, so I went out by myself! I'm sick of stale Hold air, all right? And I came in before dark. There's nothing to worry about, and anyway, I'm _not_ going to live in fear because some-- some _dimglow_ thought it would be a good idea to pick on Shadux!"

"They were not picking on Shadux--"

"And you know who they are and that they're being punished, and I'm certainly _not_ stupid enough to let it happen again. And I'm not a child anymore, either, that you can lock up whenever you wish!"

"I never said that--"

"Plenty of people go out walking during the day. Even other women! Or do you think that because I'm a woman, I can't--"

"Mariss, that's enough!" Cyrek snapped. Mariss shut her mouth and glared across the room at him. She pulled off her boot and threw it onto the floor with a *clump*. "When I said I didn't want you walking alone, I meant it! Obey me in this!"

Mariss rolled her eyes. "Or what? I am not a prisoner."

"No, but I'm not going let you get hurt!" Cyrek's eyes were hard as he watched his daughter unlace her other boot and throw it down next to it's twin. Trouble chirped unhappily and launched himself from the Steward's shoulders into /between/. "It's not safe, and I refuse to stand by and watch as you waltz into avoidable situations simply because you're too stubborn to see reason."

"See reason? My darling father, I think _you're_ the one who is overreacting," Mariss drawled. Cyrek's eyes narrowed and she knew that she'd managed to get under his skin. It was frightening to know she could anger him so easily, and she regretted hurting him but the intoxication of the power of her words was difficult to resist. "I've come back whole and hale and hearty. See? Nothing to fear."

"Shells, you-- there _is_. Zelnu and Arnuz were let off with a slap on the wrist and bearing a grudge. I don't want you out alone when there are men like that about, too. Please understand..."

Mariss had gone a little pale. "Let go? Already?! But-- they broke Shadux's _ribs_. They beat him black and blue! What do you mean, they got a slap on the wrist?"

Cyrek sighed and rubbed his face again. Stubble was beginning to push its way through the skin on his cheeks, and it scraped against his palms comfortingly. "Captain Kelton locked them up for five days, has signed them up for mandatory Hold work for two weeks, and levied a fine against them on Shadux' behalf. The fine he levied against them on your behalf was nominal." He'd argued with the man for at least half a candlemark, but Kelton had stuck to his position: aside from a bloody nose and two black eyes, Mariss was perfectly fine. It had been 'high spirits' and 'boyish teasing' until Shadux had shown up.

"What?" Mariss shook her head disbelievingly, and despite her bravery in facing the winter night moments ago, she felt fear start to claw at her ribcage again. That Kelton had slapped their wrists for hurting her was an insult and frightening in its own right, since if there wasn't much of a consequence, they might not be adverse to doing it again... "Only five days?"

"Both of them will soon be snug in their cots in the arms of their families. So yes, I do have a reason to worry. At least stay close to the Hold until bruised egos have a chance to heal." Cyrek said quietly. No matter what Kelton or Shadux said about the situation, his imagination kept painting very dark pictures of what might have happened if the previous Steward's son hadn't happened along when he did.

Mariss bit her lip. The men at Amber Hills were so much more likely to take offense at something a woman did than a man who'd done the same thing. They were holdbound and unwilling to even contemplate the idea that a woman was just as capable as her male counterpart in nearly every aspect of Hold life, and if a woman dared to step outside the rigid role that Amber Hills created for her... Mariss shivered. They probably thought she was getting what she deserved.

"Mariss? Will you promise me that you won't go walking alone?" Cyrek asked.

Her freedom, once again curtailed by Amber Hills. Mariss looked at her father and couldn't help but have her resolve crumble in the face of his worry. "All right. But just for a little while," she said unhappily, more as a promise to herself than to her father. She would not be scared. She would NOT.

Cyrek rose from his chair to kiss her gently on the forehead. "Thank you, love."

Last updated on the June 15th 2008

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A Slap on the Wrist