What Is Done

Chapter 12 - Numb

It was indeed nearing the beginning of winter when the group returned to Arün. The deciduous trees of Elven Guard were bright oranges, yellows and reds til the leaves fell while the pines stayed evergreen until covered with white snow. It was the time of year in Arün when warm clothing and blanket sales spiked. The elves collected mass amounts of dead wood to use for firewood from the forests around and stockpiling non-perishable foods, unwilling to leave the warm comfort of their homes. Elves had four seasons on their calendar, much like any other race, but in the high mountains of Elven Guard, it snowed for half the year. The other half was warm and full of sunshine.

King Laverne had decided they would leave when the snow began melting in the springtime. He was one of the elves who seldom emerged from his house in the cold season. He felt colder in the winter, his flesh already left freezing from the day of the Great Fire. There had been a time he had loved snow, it was bleak and dreary, very different from the brightness of spring and summer. The fires stilled in the fireplace in his bedchamber did him no good. It wasn't unusual for him to leave his bed, as he often wrapped himself up in many fur blankets, possibly trying to rekindle the warmth in his heart he used to feel. He wanted to feel alive once more.

Essaerae lied in her own bed. It was late in the day, close to sunset. She felt the heat of her fireplace but she was lost in thought. The kingdom of Arün celebrated Laverne's birthday annually since he was an elfling. His parents and the citizens had thought of Laverne as a miracle child. King Valka and Queen Moria had wanted children for a long time, but had had trouble conceiving, until the announcement of Laverne in Moria's womb. The people had been excited as their kingdom had a prominent future now. Elf townsfolk celebrated within the Castle Of Glass with the royal family. Laverne never thought of putting a stop to this tradition as he figured it was what Valka and Moria would have wanted.

She laid with her forearm on her forehead and the flax-linen blanket pulled up to her shoulders. What should I get King Laverne for his birthday? she thought. I know that he asked the elves to stop giving him gifts on his birthday when he became king as he had everything. 

Essaerae rolled onto her left side, towards the window. The sky was a brilliant orange through the misty clouds of the sky. The clouds grew thicker as time passed and snow began raining down when the sky turned dark. It hadn't snowed in three days. She watched the snow, in the distance, down the hill and between the trees she could also see parts of the castle. Her eyes caught the book she had on the side of her bed. The one she'd been reading beforehand. She had forgotten to bookmark it.

She closed her eyes, the light of the fireplace crept in under her eyelids. Face it, Essaerae. There is nothing on Oriande that I could get King Laverne Ingerman that he doesn't need, doesn't want or can't use. Sellion was right...I would have to show King Laverne that I'm different from the girls who lust after him if I want his love. 

Before long, she found herself drifting off to sleep. And in the end, she did think of something.

Laverne rose with the sun, his servants telling him he had a big day ahead. Birthdays just seemed like another day to him now. They brought no happiness. He told anyone who asked how he slept, "I would have preferred to sleep until noon." They bathed then dressed him in knit tights and robes lined with fur. They decorated his hair far more than they customarily did with golden bands.

He found the day drawn out and hard. Prince Jericho and Princess Khaleesi had tried to make him a birthday cake for lunch. They didn't know how to cook, therefore it looked terrible. Khaleesi demanded she be the one to write the icing message on it, except she was bad at planning. It was supposed to say "Happy Birthday Verne" in large letters, clearly running out of room for the last letters of the word birthday as they were already squished together tightly. Therefore, all it said was "birth". Verne was her nickname for her eldest brother. "Sorry, I ran out of room for the full word." Khaleesi said to him, looking at her feet. Everybody shrugged it off. Laverne sat at the head of the table and ate it with dignity. He appreciated the thought. Khaleesi and Jericho watched eagerly, hoping he'd like it. It was one of the worst things he had ever tasted that had been concocted in the castle kitchen. But Laverne pushed through the pain and gave voice to his younger siblings that it was an interesting flavor.