Chapter 15: Interlude: One

First day, Second Moon, 234 AC

"Then you have to tell the Queen about the party!"

My daughter was happily playing away with her dolls while sitting on the floor in front of me. It was after dinner, and we were just enjoying the warmth of the stove.

Violet was playing with a wooden doll my husband had made for her, while Michael was sitting nervously beside my carving away at a new handle for a hammer.

I let out a small sigh in relief, Violet was a very smart girl which thankfully meant that she was completely out of diapers. My mother said that she was quicker than my brothers and I, so I think it comes from Michael's side of the family.

Michael. Ever since that night he had been awkward and nervous, but not without good reason.

I am getting frustrated even thinking about it now. How dare he wait so long?! Serves 'im right though, I am going t' drag this out for all its worth. Which is quite a bit.

I looked up at the roof in frustration and stretched my neck. My accent was slipping, even in my thoughts! Over the years I had worked at bettering my language. Ever since Michael had come into our lives, with his drive to always do things better, to be better, I wanted to make him proud. To show him, as he was so fond of saying, his partner in life.

I shook my head and went back to looking at my beautiful daughter. I suppressed the wince that accompanied the sadness of not having my other child sitting next to her. I turned my thoughts to happier matters. My mother had told me it's hard to put into words what it feels like to watch your own daughter be happy, and she was right. It was indescribable. My mood was already picking back up.

She would need some new clothes soon enough. I had let out the ones she had now as much as I could, but they were wearing thin and too small.

The way she grew meant she needed more material, and previously she just added on to her outfits. But with all the crawling she had done, the knees were very worn. At least she was walking now. That was a mixed positive I guess.

I continued knitting absent mindedly, for Michael needed new gloves again. The ones he had were quite destroyed from all the trees he was cutting. For some reason, Michael's biggest concern was boredom and his desire to continue building up the farm. I kept trying to tell him to be warier of the long winter; for it had yet to end and it was already four years in with no sign of spring. To be fair, we were well stocked as were many of our neighbors, but we were just one accident from starving through who knew how many more years of winter?

Michael seemed to adopt of carefree sort of attitude to it that made me confused. In the time before winter he was all worried and stressed over preparing, but once it's here he is all calm and accepting? Was it a cultural thing? I knew that there wasn't much more to be done regarding surviving the winter, but it still rankled at me. Winter is dangerous and should be treated as such. I still remember those winters of my childhood; the hunger and cold, the feeling of nothing to do and nowhere to go.

I was happy that Violet didn't know that, and I suppose that was Michael's reasoning, but it still sat wrong with me.

I sighed. Michael looked up and watched me hopefully.

"You waited years. You'll need to wait a bit longer."

He looked sad again. "I know, it's just it sometimes doesn't seem quite real anymore. Like a dream."

"Years."

This time he sighed. Normally he had such an expressive face, a perfect storytelling or singing face I thought. Showed emotions and his moods so well for those that knew him. Now? It just showed how miserable he was.

"I can put a bit of you to ease. It's not that you're here or how you got here. If you are here, it's the will of the gods. Nothing but. It's that you waited. Years." I said a bit tersely. I mean, it took him years.

He perked up a bit, "How was I supposed to put that in words? Even when I did, it was confusing, and you didn't really understand at first."

"By trusting me. It goes both ways as you are always fond of saying. I am always trusting you. With new foods, new ways of doing things. I trust you."

He looked torn, his eyes highlighting his indecision. He clearly didn't know how to make this better. Such a sweet man, but sometimes so stupid.

It was curious though, he seemed so concerned about my reaction to his actual coming to Westeros. If he is here and not there, it's the will of the gods. But he seemed to think it was against the gods? What a curious world he must have lived on to have such thinking.

I gave him some mercy, "Why don't you tell me some true stories then? Let me imagine this world of yours. Your parents, your farm. Include me, my husband."

His face lit up like the spring sun shining bright over his wintry mood. "Well, where should I start? My parents were married..."