Something's Going to Give

Writers: Estelle, Miriah
Date Posted: 23rd April 2019

Characters: Alyena, Grevan
Description: Grevan tells his mother about his plans to go on a 'hunting trip'
Location: Emerald Falls Hold
Date: month 9, day 2 of Turn 9
Notes: Flashback post, takes place before the events of "A Deadly Message Delivery"
Mentioned: Corowal, J'ackt (not by name)

***
Alyena knelt in the soil beside the cot's vegetable patch and reached
out to pull up a weed before tossing it into the basket at her side.
Sometimes she wondered how so many weeds managed to grow so well here
when the tubers and greens came up so small and wizened.

She caught herself wishing again that Cronfur was here. He'd have been
able to dig this patch in half the time she would. But then, he wouldn't
have needed to, because they would have bought fresh vegetables from the
Hold, in those days.

There was no point in thinking about it. He wasn't here any more.

Weary, she pushed back a loose strand of hair from her forehead with the
back of one hand. The sun was starting to sink towards the horizon, and
there was still so much to do. She needed to bring in the laundry, and
stitch that tear in her younger boy's shirt before the light faded. She
should get dinner started, that wherry meat would need boiling for a
good while, it was so tough and stringy. And - she'd forgotten to do
anything about the broken shutter. Maybe Grevan could look at it. It
would need to be fixed before the next Threadfall.

She dug her fork into the soil - but this time, there was a loud clink
as it hit a stone and an ominous, splintering crack. Pain jarred her
wrist and she dropped the fork, watching as the wooden handle, split
down the middle, fell apart from the metal tines. Alyena stared at it,
blinking as she felt the tears stinging her eyes. Where was she going to
get another one?

Footsteps crunched over the rocky soil as Grevan emerged from around
the corner, sweat dripping down his chest and face as he carried the
final load of wood he had finished chopping. He set it down, wiped his
brow. The work load had grown steadily more difficult the past turn;
he woke up tired, but there was little help for it. He was the man of
the house now and it was his responsibility. Once he had wanted to be
a guard, just like his father but...The thought was painful.

"Mama, the wood's chopped. I'm going to..." As he looked up, he saw
the expression on his mother's face. "What? What is it?" Hurrying
over, he crouched, then followed her eyes. His shoulders sagged, but
he gently took it away from her. "It's okay. I can get a good branch
and carve a handle, Mama. I can fix it."

She smiled, rubbing her sore wrist. "What would I do without you?" As
always, her children made the day's struggles seem less
insurmountable. Grevan most of all. He'd been so strong since his
father's death, and his presence renewed her determination not to give
in.

Straightening, she brushed the soil from her skirts. "I think I'll
leave this for today, anyway, and get dinner started. It'll be a
while, I'm afraid." The weeds could wait another day or two. Perhaps
it wouldn't make much difference.

As she looked away from him, Grevan's heart clenched at the weary look
on her face. His mother seemed to have aged ten turns in the last two
and seeing it broke his heart. Maybe if they moved to the main
Hold...No, they couldn't. It was their fault this had happened, that
and that shaffing Holdless wretch... He couldn't even afford to marry
Ennali and she had waited so long for him. But what could he give her
now? He couldn't support his family much less a wife.

He tried to bury the resentment, but he couldn't. "Furayl's already
got it started." His little brother, slender and sometimes sickly, did
much of the work indoors when his mother was trying to finish the
outdoor work. He frowned, watching his mother's face. "Mama, There's a
hunting party going out next week. I thought I could go, maybe bring
back some fresh wherry for us. I'll be gone for a while, but with
luck, I might even bring back enough to store for the winter, or even
trade."

Alyena sighed, thinking that her younger boy ought to be out playing
with his friends, not cooped up in the kitchen doing the work she should
be doing, if only she had time. For that matter, Grevan should be out
too, at the tavern with the other young men his age, or courting his
sweetheart.

"Of course you should go," she said, going over to the tap to wash her
hands before bringing in the laundry. He deserved some time away, to
enjoy himself in the company of the hunters. Besides, she couldn't help
thinking of what they could do with a few good wild wherries. The tough
hides could be sold to the tanners, she could boil the bones to make
stock and render the fat for grease or soap. "Whatever you can bring
back would be a help. We have to make our contribution to the tithe, soon."

"I think we've contributed enough over the past few turns." Grevan's
face set in a dark expression that screamed out his anger. "We need all
we've got for us." The sum they'd received as reparations from the Weyr
hadn't lasted one season, not with his father's health, a poor
harvest, and then his father's death. "Let Lord Corowal give our share
or maybe the Weyr could try some farming themselves. They're the Lords
of Pern, let them struggle a bit for a while. It's not like they'll
miss what we could provide anyway. "

He sat in the chair, rubbing his face. The hunting trip was a farce,
but he'd be able to take their own reparations out of a Holdless hide,
by Faranth. He wanted vengeance. Vengeance for his father, vengeance
for his mother who suffered daily, and vengeance for his younger
brother who had seen too much. Furayl still had nightmares.

"I know." She dried her hands on her apron, and came over to touch his
shoulder. She wished she hadn't had to bring it up, but he needed to
know. He had responsibilities now, as much as she might have wished it
otherwise, and anger was not a luxury they could afford. "But if we
don't pay, we'll be turned out of the cot. I have to think of Furayl and
Evalya." Her two younger children could not live Holdless.

Frustrated, Grevan punched the flat of his other hand. "They can't
starve either! Something _has_ to be done, Mama." He rose, striding to
the room that he shared with his younger brother. Digging into his
belongings, he pulled out two of the last things he had saved just for
himself, hoping he'd be able to keep them. One, a fine etched dagger
that had belonged to his father's grandfather, the other, the small
ring that he had saved for three turns to buy to give to Ennali as a
betrothal gift. His fist curled around it and he strode out, holding
them both. They couldn't afford for him to keep them. Not now. The
ring itself was almost worth three months of his father's pay.

"I'm going to the market, Mama." He showed her the items, face drawn,
but determined. He was also going to speak to the tithe train guard to
make arrangements for the next week. "I'll get what we need."

"Oh, Grevan, no. Those are yours!" Stricken, Alyena reached out and
tried to close his fingers around the ring. She tried to think if there
was anything left of hers that he could take instead, but it was
hopeless. The gifts Cronfur had given her had all been sold months ago.
The inescapable truth was that it cost more to live in the cot and feed
the children than she could possibly make.

If Grevan only had a good, solid trade to work at. But you had to know
someone, and her family and Cronfur's had all been in the guards. Maybe
the hunters would take him on, if he did well?

"I can trade with our neighbours," she suggested. "There are some old
clothes, the second cooking pot..."

Grevan moved his hand away and shook his head at head mother's
suggestions. "Mama, it wouldn't be enough. I have to take care of us.
That's more important than this stuff. " His voice was rough. He was
now the man of the family, and providing for them was his
responsibility. They couldn't afford for him to keep trinkets, not
when they could provide food and supplies. "Furayl and Evalya have to
eat."

He swallowed and brought up another subject that his mother wouldn't
like. "Furayl's twelve now, he needs to apprentice to a craft. " He
had wanted nothing more than to be a guard so hadn't done so but
Furayl had other options. "I know you don't want him to leave home,
but, it'll be better for him. His Masters would provide for him. We
_can't_. I'm going to speak to Master Delton while I'm at the hold."
The Master Weaver was sympathetic to their plight and was likely the
best option.

"But they know about... what happened to your father at the Hold,"
Alyena protested. Furayl was so young, she couldn't lose him too. And
who would comfort him, when he woke from the nightmares? "What if the
other apprentices tease him about it? He's not strong."

"He's going to have to be." Grevan sighed. "He's going to have to
adapt, for his own good. He's going to have to grow up." He tucked the
dagger away and shoved the ring in his pocket. "I'm going. I'll bring
back supplies."

She wanted to argue, but knew it was no use. She'd never been able to
talk Cronfur out of a decision once he'd made it, either. Alyena wished
she could sink down in the chair and cry, but it wouldn't help, and
there was still so much to do.

"All right. We'll save your dinner for you." The best she could do now
was to encourage him, so he'd know how grateful she was for his support.
"Don't be too long."
---

Last updated on the May 3rd 2019

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Something's Going to Give