I hate people who whisper.
A silence deafened the dining hall. Not even the sound of champagne bubbles fizzled life into the room anymore. Infront of her, on the golden spun tablecloth, a crimson satin box had been set down. An elegant black bow topping the gift.
“It’s a Peace day gift, Blair,” Gilbert stood over her, poise of authority in his weasel way. Yet, a mocking gentleness as he spoke towards her infront of many eyes, “Open it!”
A bottle of perfume laid upon a black velvet. She didnt understand- perhaps it smelled of a calming herb.
“Thank yo-”
He pulled out the bottle and showed the room his greatest kindness he’s ever shown toward a Dunn. The mist from the nozzle wafted throughout the room, an immediate familiarity hitting her nose.
The lingering scent on her husband when he remained out far too late.
A simple unknown scent laid in a mystery she never wondered. The mystery gone as an uproar in whispers erupted from the other guests.
————-
I hate being told what to do.
It was past the point of knowing who smacked who first. Or why. Blair had a bit of a temper problem.
The young twins locked in a strongarm match, dirty and equally bruised. Liam grabbed at the arm that was wrapped and locked around his neck. He twisted her forearm with natural strength and shoved her off his back.
Turning he lunged at her and they both rolled across the ground until he was ontop, pinning her arms to her side.
Blair screamed at him, red in the face, “Let me go!” Her legs kicked out recklessly.
“No!”
“NOW!”
“NO! Your just gonna hit me again!”
The yelling match continued between the MacCraig twins before Blair spit up at him. Liam recoiled in disgust and she took the opportunity to worm out of his grasps.
He righted himself right as she wrapped around him and grabbed his wrist, she now forced his own hand to smack himself, “you’re hitting yourself, dummy!”
“ENOUGH!”
The voice of their father boomed across the yard and they froze in place.
“Blair, let go of your brother and apologize.”
“But I didn’t-”
“Blair! Did your other ear not hear me? Let go of Liam, and apologize. Now.”
She let go of her brother and shoved him in retaliation. Her anger getting the best of her as she gave a false apology.
“Blair Aileen Mac Declan of Clan MacCraig!”, at the declaration of her full name Liam let out a cheeky “ooooo” and she balled her hands into fists, “You apologize to your brother this instant or-”
“Or what!?”
————-
I hate people who whine.
The pub was loud and full of life. Blair had gifted a keg of mead to those in attendance and this night no cup ran dry.
A genuine smile crept on her face as her people sang, danced, and gossiped with freedom. Blair herself was plenty of drinks in- only the barest fog of tipsyness, tickled her senses.
The world was wrong, but right now, things almost felt right. Only a little cigarette was missing in this near perfect moment.
She stood outside and stared up at the stars, her smoke the only cloud in sight.
“Can you believe the Rogalians brought up drudges, right infront of Liam O’ Craig?”
Blair leaned back on the building and inhaled the cigarette till it was at its end. She remained calm but couldn’t help but reminisce on how obnoxiously weak the town sounded bringing up something so vile. She lit another smoke and shook her head.
————-
But I’ve learned the importance of whispering.
How on the battlefield in the brush, looking across the field, the glint of my brother’s eye- the only silent message I needed.
The whispers of our men to eachother as we make our plans to ambush the enemy who threaten my new home.
—
Ive learned to listen to the demands of freedom.
My brother is an inspiring leader. I may not always agree with him but he doesn’t demand of me what he wouldn’t do, or hasn’t done himself.
This town may go through many struggles but there is a balance in the give and take of this place. A demand of me is a need for our people. For freedom of us all.
—
And I am learning to understand these needs, they deserved to be voiced. Whining or not.
