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31_days2009-12-20 09:52 am
seta-suzume.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2009-12-20 09:52 am
[Dec. 20] [Tales of Legendia] House of Nostalgia
Title: House of Nostalgia
Day/Theme: Dec. 20, 2009 "when a heart must go where it belongs"
Series: Tales of Legendia
Character/Pairing: Chloe
Rating: PG
I want to write a story about Chloe going home between the main story and the CQs, but I think I need a more concrete idea about what I'd want to happen...
Everyday Chloe remembered the spectacle and pageantry of life in a knightly house, but never so viscerally as now as she stood on Gadorian soil, face to face with her ancestral home. The place was closed up carefully now, like a dollhouse would be packed up in tissue paper to be stored in an attic when the girls of the household had outgrown it. It would remain untouched like that until they came back with daughters of their own. Chloe's manor wasn't stored away so completely. She still retained the services of one faithful servant to come by once a month and make sure the house was unmolested and the garden hadn't returned to a wild state quite yet. Her gald and trust had been well-placed. For all its cool emptiness, like an abandoned shell, the Valens manse still stood, solid and somber. Its appearance was respectable enough.
The wooden steps creaked as she climbed to the porch. There had once been a white swing beside the door, where on warm nights she had snuggled between her mother and father, brushing the air of her favorite doll, Marguerite, as her parents spoke comfortably, like equals, of economics and politics and what kind of education she should receive. The mantle of House Valens was not yet heavy on her shoulders. She was a happy girl, petted and primped, leaning to be a perfect lady. There might still be a little brother to carry on the name.
Summer evenings and fireflies dispersed with the turn of the key in the lock. Chloe stepped inside. It was dim enough outside as the sun slipped behind the hills, but here it was positively charcoal black. She left the door ajar to take advantage of what little daylight remained as she felt about through barren cabinets and counters for a candle and some matches. It was at times like this that being versed in crystal eres would come in handy.
She discovered a candlestick before the matches, and by the time the red box was in hand her eyes had adjusted well enough to the dark that she could see the candle was a pathetic yellow affair, half used and lumpy with melted and re-hardened drippings of wax. She struck a match and touched the flame to the blackened wick, which sputtered to life. She was in the kitchen. During her parents' lifetime she had not frequented it. The kitchen had been the bustling domain of a full staff of servants. At the other end of the room she could see into the stately dining room with its long, oaken table. She had avoided eating there once she was left alone. The emptiness of the grand hall had only amplified her feelings of loneliness. Before that, she had taken its aged splendor for granted. Every year on her birthday she had been served her favorite meal of duck a l'orange and chocolate fudge cake. It felt like several lifetimes ago. Could she even manage to choke down a meal like that without tears now? As there was no one here to make it, Chloe, wasn't about to find out. She went back to the entry way to close the door.
Day/Theme: Dec. 20, 2009 "when a heart must go where it belongs"
Series: Tales of Legendia
Character/Pairing: Chloe
Rating: PG
I want to write a story about Chloe going home between the main story and the CQs, but I think I need a more concrete idea about what I'd want to happen...
Everyday Chloe remembered the spectacle and pageantry of life in a knightly house, but never so viscerally as now as she stood on Gadorian soil, face to face with her ancestral home. The place was closed up carefully now, like a dollhouse would be packed up in tissue paper to be stored in an attic when the girls of the household had outgrown it. It would remain untouched like that until they came back with daughters of their own. Chloe's manor wasn't stored away so completely. She still retained the services of one faithful servant to come by once a month and make sure the house was unmolested and the garden hadn't returned to a wild state quite yet. Her gald and trust had been well-placed. For all its cool emptiness, like an abandoned shell, the Valens manse still stood, solid and somber. Its appearance was respectable enough.
The wooden steps creaked as she climbed to the porch. There had once been a white swing beside the door, where on warm nights she had snuggled between her mother and father, brushing the air of her favorite doll, Marguerite, as her parents spoke comfortably, like equals, of economics and politics and what kind of education she should receive. The mantle of House Valens was not yet heavy on her shoulders. She was a happy girl, petted and primped, leaning to be a perfect lady. There might still be a little brother to carry on the name.
Summer evenings and fireflies dispersed with the turn of the key in the lock. Chloe stepped inside. It was dim enough outside as the sun slipped behind the hills, but here it was positively charcoal black. She left the door ajar to take advantage of what little daylight remained as she felt about through barren cabinets and counters for a candle and some matches. It was at times like this that being versed in crystal eres would come in handy.
She discovered a candlestick before the matches, and by the time the red box was in hand her eyes had adjusted well enough to the dark that she could see the candle was a pathetic yellow affair, half used and lumpy with melted and re-hardened drippings of wax. She struck a match and touched the flame to the blackened wick, which sputtered to life. She was in the kitchen. During her parents' lifetime she had not frequented it. The kitchen had been the bustling domain of a full staff of servants. At the other end of the room she could see into the stately dining room with its long, oaken table. She had avoided eating there once she was left alone. The emptiness of the grand hall had only amplified her feelings of loneliness. Before that, she had taken its aged splendor for granted. Every year on her birthday she had been served her favorite meal of duck a l'orange and chocolate fudge cake. It felt like several lifetimes ago. Could she even manage to choke down a meal like that without tears now? As there was no one here to make it, Chloe, wasn't about to find out. She went back to the entry way to close the door.