6100-6103 RTR – Vignettes showing a sampling of four years in the life of Willow and her new family.
(Nordika) (Willow) (Writings)
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"So how was the honeymoon, Master Dack?" The gray Khatta took the prince's coat and folded it neatly across his arm.

The prince stomped snow from his boots. "It was quite nice, although I fear that Willow caught ill while we were on Abaddon."

A tired Skreek stepped past the two felines, paused to give the Prince a quick peck on the cheek, and then headed towards the den where the fire was rumbling.

"Lady Foxfire!" The servant held up a finger and pointed to a wrapped package sitting on the cushion of a decorative chair. "Prince Naochi's butler sent you that. He said you would be in need of it when you got back."

Willow grinned and scooped the wrapped bundle under an arm. "A late wedding gift! I'll open it in the den so my fingers will be warm enough to do more than poke at the paper."

"She seems to be in good health, Master Dack," the servant noted.

The prince nodded. "Yes, well … she's been having a rough time of it mostly in the… "

The conversation was cut off by a string of colorful phrases shouted out from the den, most of them directed at Rezhinald Dack.

Sebazhan rushed in after his wife and found her sulking on the couch. Tattered bits of paper and an empty box laid at her feet while her hands clutched a small leather pouch.

"What happened?" asked the black Khatta. "Rezhinald didn't insult you or send you something vile, did he?"

Willow held up the pouch. In it were some purplish leaves that had a sharp musky scent.

"These are?" Sebazhan pulled out a leaf and sniffed at it.

"Quirmberry leaves. A medicine."

The Khatta narrowed one eye. "And this upset you because… ?"

Willow folded her hands over her head. "They're for morning sickness, and not the kind caused by germs or bad food."

Sebazhan blinked.

"I should have known the symptoms. Sick in the morning, some weakness here and there. That scampy cat knew it all along." Willow groaned and buried her face in her hands. "I'm scruddy pregnant."

The prince grinned. "I'm going to be a father!"

Willow only groaned again.


Sebazhan followed the trail of dirt along the carpet, carefully stepping over some of the cleaning bugs that were madly trying to scrub the grime away, as he hunted for his wife. She'd been particularly fidgety that day and had been scouring the castle for things to do. She'd somehow managed to find a spot in one of the atriums for an herb garden and – judging by the dirt trail – had spend a large portion of the morning tending to it.

Willow had managed to exhaust herself, at least for a little while, and was curled up in a chair with her eyes focused on a window, her pipe clenched between her teeth.

"I thought you swore you were going to give up that habit when you found out about the baby?"

The Skreek waggled the pipe a little with her teeth. "I'm not smoking it, just chewing on it and trying to remember the taste. I told you this wasn't going to be an easy habit to quit." Her eyes studied the motion of the grass in the fields outside.

The Khatta sighed. "I recommended candy, but you seemed opposed to that idea."

"It's not the same taste. Besides, the sugar would probably send me flying from the walls."

Prince Sebazhan plucked at his lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps we need to get you a new type of pipe. Wait right here a moment."

Willow arched an eyebrow but said nothing, focusing back on the fields outside and trying to ignore the gnawing need inside of her.

The prince was gone for only a few minutes. When he returned, he had a book and a simple wooden instrument in his hands, both of which he placed in the Skreek's lap. "The Dacks have always had some musical talent; perhaps you could try your hand at it as well?"

"Is this a flute? I thought you played them sideways." Willow turned the wooden instrument over in her hands. "It looks too long and thin to be a recorder."

"A beggar's whistle. I know the name makes it sound like a cheap toy, but the music it makes it beautiful. It's less clumsy than a flute and easier to learn to play." The prince leaned down and gave the whistle a tap with one of his claws. "I also notice that it appears to be made of wood similar to your pipe."

The Skreek put it to her lips and have it an experimental blow. It produced a sharp note like the trill of a bird that startled her so much that she almost dropped it. "You realize that once I start trying to learn to play this, the castle won't be quiet for months on end?"

Sebazhan grinned. "I'll consider it to be practice for when we have the baby in the house, and as an added bonus you should be skilled enough to play the child a lullaby at night."

Willow folded her hands around the whistle. "Thank you."

"My Lady deserves any help I can give her." Sebazhan bowed. "It's what she does for me."


Willow looked at her profile in the mirror, placing a hand on her swollen belly and sticking out her tongue. "So this is what I look like if I ever let myself get fat."

"No, that's what you look like eight months pregnant. I believe that obesity causes the rest of one's body to swell up as well." Sebazhan hummed to himself as he polished his boots. "Have you thought of a name for her yet?"

"Her… " The Skreek shook her head and carefully eased herself into a chair. "Rezhinald had to go and answer my question when I joked about not knowing what color to paint the baby room … pink or blue?"

"We painted it blue, if I recall… "

"Because Rezhinald said that if we painted it pink, the little girl wouldn't like it as much ." Willow made a face and folded her hands over her stomach.

The prince wiped his hands off on a cotton cloth. "Well, you don't seem to care for most of my suggestions for names, not that I've ever been an expert on finding appropriate ones for girls."

"I've got a name in mind, I think… "


Prince Dack folded his arms behind his head as he lay quietly in bed. Willow was fast asleep at his side but was never still. Her hand rested on a small little bundle placed between them, and every so often she would sniff sharply through her nose as if to check that the baby was still there by its scent, or flex her fingers to feel the warmth of the child under her hand.

The Skreek had been so frightened of motherhood, so scared that she wouldn't be able to love a baby or afraid that she might hurt it somehow just by existing … but the moment the child was placed in her arms, Prince Dack watched every fear and every doubt melt out of his wife's eyes. She loved the baby, and would do everything in her power to make sure the child grew up knowing that. The only other person with which Willow was so open with her affections was the prince himself, and it took her grieving over the loss of a dear friend to shatter that wall.

In a way, it made the name they chose for the kitten all the more appropriate. There were three great moments of change in Willow's life that the prince knew of. There was first time in the Himaat when she met a Savanite queen, a second time when she heard the news of the queen's death … and the third when the baby was born.

The little girl was a black Khatta just like her father, but she had the most unusual shock of red hair on her crown and bright green eyes that wanted to drink in the world around her. She'd get frustrated when she was sleepy or was kept in one place for too long and kept trying to reach out and grab anything she could get her hands on. Even now, the sleeping kitten had a double handful of her mother's tangled black hair.

They would have to start using the crib soon before Willow ended up bald, Sebazhan noted to himself – but one more night wouldn't hurt.

The Khatta leaned over and kissed his kitten's head. "Good night, Jezebel."


A card with the seal of Kroz is delivered to the Shiny Shoppe of Rephidim:

    To Moon-Brow and Priest Testament-Blaze:

    Prince Sebazhan Dack and Lady Willow Dack are pleased to announce the birth of their baby daughter, Jezebel Nene Dack, on Ring Day, 6100 RTR. Both mother and child are doing fine.

The rest has been penned by hand and is written in a much more sloppy handwriting.

    If there would have been anybody I would have asked to be the godmother of my daughter, it would have been Third-Vision herself, but lacking that, dear Moon-Brow, I would like to humbly ask if you would be my daughter's godmother in her place. There is a great distance between us, so understand that I do not expect you to visit us regularly or play baby-sitter for me. All I ask is that you pray for my daughter when you can, and should you ever have the means to visit, then please come by to see her, if only once a year or so.

    Testament-Blaze, there is none other that I think would make a better godfather for Jezebel than you. It was partially through your teachings that I stopped fearing marriage and motherhood. If you would accept, I would be greatly honored.

    Signed,

    Lady Willow Dack


"No no no no! If you keep swinging your stick like that, you'll probably end up doing more damage to yourself than to any imps you might come across." Willow leaned on an oaken staff, each end tipped with a cap of iron. "This isn't some swashbuckling story from your storybooks, Kiri, this is real fighting. Now I want you to try that swing again."

Kiri massaged his hands. "I don't know what the big deal is, Sis. They're just Bosch imps. One whack and they poof into nothingness."

The older Skreek lashed her tail. "And what if something tougher comes down from Bosch? What if the bandits decide to try and make a big score on your castle or take you out because of the work you've been doing to push them off your lands?"

The prince rolled his eyes, and then found himself sprawled out on his backside as Willow suddenly kicked his legs out from underneath him.

"Kiri, there's wars going on all around us, and borders are changing. We've been untouched by it so far, but you never know what might happen in the years to come. For all we know, that wizard Kroz might come back from out of Bosch and cause trouble again. Either way, you need to be prepared. Now get yourself back up and try it again."

Kiri growled and hauled himself back to his feet. "You know it's bad enough that you've been encouraging Shirela like you have, but now this? I can fight on my own you know."

Willow hunched down, holding her staff in front of her. "Then show me. But if you lose, then you have to promise me you'll arrange for a nice dinner with you and Shirela, and when the evening's over you'll escort her to her home and kiss her cheek and then go back to your castle. No messing around."

"Yer not trying to get me married off, are you?" The prince folded his arms against his chest.

"Not quite yet … but it's high time you learned how to start treating a lady right. Remember that there's still people who would love to take your lands from you, and someday you're going to need to marry and produce an heir. Now would you rather be married to a spoiled prostitute who will try to take everything from you, or would you prefer a lady who will raise your children right and care about your lands and your castle?"

"All right! But you're really going to be hurting in the morning… " Kiri leapt at his sister wildly and then bounced as she slammed her own staff against his and threw him to the side.

"We'll see."


"I can't believe this. I'm barely thirty, and I'm getting gray hair!" Willow pawed at the crown of her head, fussing with the strands and trying to cover them up. More of the oddly colored ones had been showing up over the past few months, and unless she resorted to dying her hair, it was now impossible to conceal.

"Actually, they look white. I think they make you look like quite the matriarch." Sebazhan smiled at the Skreek as he idly filed at his claws.

She sighed. "Maybe it's a side effect from the magic change that's finally decided to show itself." Willow let a grin spread across her face. "Or maybe being married to you has prematurely aged me. I mean, life is so harsh here in Kroz compared with life on the airships."

Prince Dack placed the back of his hand against his forehead. "Yes … forcing you to hobnob with royalty and the torture of dressing up, the agony of having servants cook your meals, how can you ever stand it?"

Willow spun around and pounced on the prince, playfully wrestling him back into his chair. "Don't forget the gossip about how I seduced you just to get a cushy life out here."

"And now I'm married to a graying old maid who abuses me terribly!" Sebazhan purred, kissing the Skreek on the nose.

"That's Matriarch to you! I – " Willow was cut off by the wail of a kitten from upstairs. "Someone's woken up from their nap."

"The Princess demands an audience with the Matriarch," Dack purred, grinning even wider and twirling a finger upwards.

The Skreek pulled herself up. "I'll see if Jezzy's hungry, or she might just want to finish her nap in another room. Thank the Star your castle is big enough to keep her happy. By the time she's gotten bored with half the rooms in the castle, she's forgotten what the other half looked like."

"I'll take the next shift; have fun, my love." Sebazhan blew the Skreek a kiss as she trotted upstairs.


"Look, just because I happen to be a Skreek doesn't mean I'm cheap like most of the ones you've met. I wouldn't sell a sandwich made out of a poly for the amount you're asking, much less sell you a clutch. Eggs are twenty shekels, the grubs are thirty, and the full grown bugs themselves are fifty."

The Jupani trader made a soft 'pshaw' noise under his breath. "Lady Dack, I can find bugs for half that price in Babel – a quarter of it even."

Willow folded her arms behind her head. "And most of them would die within three days of setting one loose in your house. Polys are hardy. They breed fast enough to replace themselves, and they can eat anything. Not to mention, in tight times they make for fairly good eating themselves."

"That may be, but I still need to make something of a profit myself. Someone can pay for a servant or buy a whole Bromthen for the price you ask."

The Skreek yawned. "All right, I'll tell you what … if you buy up my surplus, I'll shave off twenty percent." She grinned, basking in her role as the seller haggling with the merchant for once, and she actually had an interesting novelty to sell, now that the little Abaddonian poly bugs had properly adapted to Kroz.

The wolf chewed on his lip. "Throw in some fat adults for the meat and you've a deal."

"Genoh," Willow squeaked, shaking the merchant's hand and grinning from ear to ear.


*BONG* #CLANG# *BOING*

Sebazhan winced as the Savanites carried his harpsichord down the stone steps and into the den. Willow had kept good on her word, and when this rag-tag group of cheetahs arrived at his door asking for permission to stay the night, she had eagerly let them in and offered hem a warm meal and a place to sleep.

There were eight of them total: an old matron with creaky joints, her two daughters and their husbands, and three cubs that looked to be just past the kittenish stage and growing into small adults.

His harpsichord was brought out when Willow found that the family were musicians and were on their way to play in Olympia for Freedom Day, the Savanite holiday. When the travelers asked what they could do to pay for their stay at the castle, Willow suggested that they play for the family, and to "liven things up", had suggested that the musical talents of the Dack household join in as well. The assembled instruments from the two families consisted of a reed pipe, two drums, a lute, a harpsichord, and Willow's beggar's whistle.

"My music instructor is rotating in his grave," the prince said with a grimace.

Willow pushed the playing bench underneath Prince Dack, forcing him to sit down or fall on his backside. "This is Kroz; that kind of thing happens all the time." She chuckled and waved off the shocked looks from the cheetahs. "Sure, we're not Gallisian orchestra, but I'm sure we'll do fine. Nene can show our new friends how well she's learned to dance."

This prompted a squeal of delight from a red-haired black Khatta cub sitting on a chair in the corner. The little kitten delighted in chances to show off to guests, and took her place in the center of the den as rapidly as space could be made for her.

The music began with a drumbeat from one of the Savanite cubs while his mother played the pipes. It was a heavy tribal sounding song that made one think of rushing rivers or wild beasts lurking behind tangled vines. The whistle added dancing birds and scurrying animals in the musical painting, and even Dack's prized harpsichord painted droplets of dew on the jungle floor and summoned images of twinkling sunbeams.

Amidst it all a young Khatta kitten and two Savanite boys danced as only children can, with unpracticed steps that more than made up for themselves with buckets of enthusiasm. The rapid playing fueled by the energy of the children kept the household awake well into the night.


"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.

"If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.

"If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.

"It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

"Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

"It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

"Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away."

"Well done, Reed." Willow folded her book shut and adjusted the kitten sitting in her lap. "Now, let me explain what that means for both of you." She cleared her throat. "Remember what we said about how faith without works is dead?"

Both the kitten and the Savanite boy nodded their heads.

"Well, faith without love is also dead. In our studies, we've read that the Star itself is love, so if you deny love to others or to yourself then you also deny the Star. Now, to know what that includes doing and not doing, we look back to what Reed just read for us." The Skreek held the book open and pointed to a section. "Love is patient, kind, it always protects, trusts, hopes, and perseveres. It isn't rude, greedy, easy to anger, doesn't hold grudges, and doesn't take joy from evil acts."

Willow studied the puzzled looks on the two feline faces and grinned. "If someone does evil by you and then asks for your forgiveness, then you need to be quick to forgive them, and you need to forgive someone even if they don't ask for it. It might be that deep down that person needs to know that you forgive them before they can forgive themselves." Her smile fades a little. "When someone needs your love, even if you know they might hurt you for giving it to them, then sometimes you need to give it to them anyway. You need to be gentle and kind to people as much as you can, and don't let yourself get caught up in things like greed or pride or envy. Stay humble, love yourself, love the Star, and love as many people as you can. That's what the Star wants us to do."

Nene was the first to reply, using her singular and most often used question in all the world. "Why?"

"Is fighting bad?" Reed added, looking concerned.

"You should be ready to defend yourselves if there's no other means, but never start a fight … never provoke a fight when there might be another way around the problem." The Skreek tapped the book again, remembering the priest that gave it to her. "There are some that are called to live their lives completely without violence, and in a perfect world that way would be best… but there's people out there who try to hurt everything they touch. If you are called to fight, then fight when you need to, but always keep your pride in check. The moment you kill someone unnecessarily or take pleasure in the act is when you begin to deny the Star."

Willow glanced over her shoulder at a portrait on the wall. It had been recently painted and was a fairly nice likeness of the Dack family: Prince Dack trying to look as regal as he could, "Lady Foxfire" in one of her rare appearances in a dress, leaning smugly against her husband's shoulder, and Nene clinging to the hem of her dress and staring off at something in wonder.

"Love can be a powerful thing. It may not be able to summon lightning bolts from the sky like mages can, but it can bring the strongest and most stubborn of people to their knees and soften the hearts of the most cold of people. It can be the hardest thing to do in the world, and it can also be the easiest. The best advice I can give you is to keep your wits abut you and be smart, but make sure that your heart has a say in what you do as well. It's when you stop listening to your heart that you start getting into trouble."

The Skreek opened the book in her lap and continued reading. "And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."


"Nene? Hey? Where are you hiding?" Willow sniffed at the air, following the kitten's scent. "Jezebel Nene Dack, I know you're around here someplace!"

After a minute of nothing in the way of a reply, the Skreek continued her search, following the child's scent through the hallways and up one of the towers of the castle. The trail led to one of the lesser used sections of the Dack castle, in a tower that was used to store old furniture and a few supplies. The hatch at the top of the steps was open as well, although the Skreek's keen ears couldn't pick up any noise inside.

Willow poked her head through the open hatch and peered around, quietly sniffing at the dusty air.

The kitten was crouched in a corner, staring intently at the floor. A piece of bread was clutched in her hand and every few minutes she would pull off a small piece and sprinkle the crumbs on the ground at her feet.

A small colony of stone-ants had made a nest in the attic and were patiently gathering up the bits of bread dropped by the kitten. The Skreek watched as they would slowly clear away the crumbs on the ground, only to have more dropped in their place.

The only motion the kitten made was to carefully pull off the drying sections of bread and crumble them between her fingers. The rest of her remained stock-still as she watched the goings-on under her feet with complete and utter fascination. Her tousled red hair seemed to glow in sunlight that came through the window.

Quietly, Willow retreated from the hatch and sneaked back down the steps. Her daughter was just fine, and there was no reason to disturb her when all she was doing was acting curious.


Sebazhan Dack frowned as he looked over some papers. Prince Kiri was a bit behind on his payments for the loan … although trading had been low for the past year and all the kingdoms in Kroz had been weak. There would be some traveling merchants stopping by in the morning and hopefully Willow could persuade them to do business in their kingdom and help supplement the strained income the kingdom was suffering this season.

And of course there were the border disputes to deal with. The Olympians had been testing his borders as of late, just some poaching and foraging … but it was something he couldn't allow to go on for too much longer unless he wanted the Olympians to start straining at the ropes even more.

The prince sighed to himself. There were times that Dagh's plan for him seemed much simpler than his current mundane life. At the very least it was more exciting … becoming a great wizard and rising above all the petty problems that came with being a lowly…

"Daddy?"

The Khatta peered down over his shoulder and saw a green-eyed kitten staring up at him.

"Mommy wanted me to give you a very important message, Daddy," the kitten mewed.

The prince kneeled down next to his daughter. "And what would that be, Nene?"

The black kitten threw her arms around her father's neck and kissed his cheek. "Mommy wanted me to tell you that she loves you," she whispered in his ear, as though it were the most treasured secret in the world.

Sebazhan hugged the kitten. "Well tell your mommy that I love her too," he whispered back.

Jezebel Nene giggled to herself and nodded, placing her finger to her lips in a "shush" gesture and then skipping out of the room to deliver her father's "message".

Prince Dack sat back at his desk, smiling to himself. Maybe mundane wasn't so bad after all…

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GMed by Greywolf

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