Bread, Thorns, and Stormcloaks

Collecting Flours

Sweat dribbling down the back of my neck, I did my best to bite back the panic that was beginning to set in. I dragged in one deep, uneven breath, and opened the door of the kiln. Smoke, black and bitter, poured out into the kitchen, and I had time to see 8 lumps of charcoaled bread before I slammed the latch back on.

Immediately I set about suffocating the flames heating the kiln, but even as they went out, I knew the kiln wouldn't be cool for hours, by which time it would be night.

Stupid.

Right. Start again.

I knotted my smokey hair into a quick plait, scooped up a cup of flour, and began to make a bread dough for the second time that day.

I was flustered - clearly. For two weeks now, my entire family had been preparing for my 19th birthday. We were holding a celebration here at Fallstar farm, and everyone in Ivarstead - from the Huntress Torhild to Hackett the miner - had been invited. And of course, in a Stead of less than twenty houses in which absolutely nothing of interest ever happened, everyone had accepted.

And now the party was tomorrow and we had no bread to feed anyone.

I shoved lavender and the last of the Snowberries into the dough, and pressed my elbows into it, moving them round in circles, before flipping the dough over and pressing them in again. I did this until the sweat was dribbling down my nose, and ears, and arms, as well as my neck. My shoulders felt stiff with effort.

When I had done all I could, I swung the door of the Kiln open to remove my last attempts. But the smoke had become more pungent in the last hour, stagnating in the closed space. I gasped for breath and, finding none, stumbled to the kitchen door, tumbling out over the steps and into the garden.

For a second I lay there, watching the pale grey of Skyrim's sky churn with fluffy clouds, the sound of the stream and the nirnroot which sprouted across it's banks soothing my ears. Then-

"You alright sis?"

A familiar hand stretched out above me. I grasped it with both of mine and allowed it to pull me up. My brother Raoul stood before me, mudstained and sweaty and holding a worn-axe, smirking at my dishevelled state.

"Yes of course brother, just taking a break from the cooking."

He raised an eyebrow at the smoke billowing out of the open door.

"Taking a break from the cooking? Or running away from it?"

"I burnt the bread."

"I figured."

"I can't get them out of the Kiln because of all the smoke,"

"Would you like me to do it?"
I felt a rush of love for my brother and returned his smile.

"Yes please."

He chuckled and started up the steps.

"Oh, mother was looking for you by the way. She's at Hilda's - I think they want to change your dress up a bit?"

I suppressed a sigh. I've had to go to Hild's nearly everyday for that bloody dress - a bit of lace here, an upturned hem there. It was exhausting.

"I'll go in a bit. I need to put the new breads in the oven,"

Raoul flashed me a grin

"I'm sure I can handle that sis. You better go over there now, spare our poor mother the wait. After all, it's not everyday that their little Mountain Flower gets engaged to the most eligible Bachelor in all of Skyrim,"

He teasingly pinched my cheek and I swatted him away, telling him where to shove his axe. That made him laugh, and I smiled in spite of my irritation. Then he turned and disappeared into the smoke, and I was alone, the smile falling away.

See my birthdays are never usually a big deal. A large, sickly sweetroll, games with my siblings, and stories in the evening with the whole family cuddled up together in our living room. Small. Warm.

But this year was different.
Because this year Bjorn Rains-Hand and his family were travelling up from Riften to attend.
Because this year, Bjorn had drawn my mother aside during his last visit to ask her something that I was not privy to.

So this year I was having a dress, and 8 loaves of bread, and a party the size of a village.

And this year would change everything.

Feeling a sudden queasiness, I strode to the end of the garden and turned up the village path - towards Hilda's house.