#regency crossover

The Lavellan women - for such they would now be called, no longer entitled to their half-brother's family name nor expectant of any support from him - were forced to accept this unwelcome change so soon upon the tails of the former Bann's death, and each reacted to the pain and inconvenience in their own ways. Ellana, the now Widow Lavellan, a handsome elven woman no more than forty years of age, had given way to her grief so wholly since the death of her beloved husband that she barely stepped from her rooms, weeping inconsolably as though she might never look upon the world with dry eyes again. Her somewhat romantic and dramatic view of their new circumstance was transmitted to her younger daughter, Lanise, who now chose to spend hours in the music room, playing the saddest of music at the highest of volumes, determined to cloak the house in the mantle of her grieving sixteen-year-old heart. And then there was Eralen, the elder Lavellan daughter who, though as heartbroken and saddened by their loss as her mother and sister, showed the world a calm face and gentle manner, taking on the burdens of running the household, making Goldanna and Johannes welcome in their new home, and consoling her mother during the worst of her fits of grief.

"Mamae, there is no need for this," she said, watching as her weeping mother swept about her private rooms, tossing keepsakes and personal items haphazardly into an open trunk. "Johannes will not simply toss us out onto the street."

"Yet he was quick to arrive and take charge of the estate," Ellana snapped back at her daughter. "And sending that woman ahead of him to hurry us along! Vultures, the pair of them, taking stock and inventory, laying a price on every precious memory we have made here. I will not stay to be a stranger in my own home, I will not -"

Yet here she crumbled, collapsing onto the stool by her vanity, her tears renewed with a wail muffled only by the press of her handkerchief to her mouth. Eralen bit her lip, moving further into the room to lay a gentle hand on her mother's back.

"I will start making enquiries to finding us somewhere else to live," she said quietly, not knowing what else she could say in the face of her mother's distress. "But until we have somewhere to go, you will have to bear it, Mamae."

Ellana groped for her daughter's hand, pressing her wet cheek against Eralen's knuckles.

"What would we do without you?"

Eralen smiled faintly, bending to kiss her mother's hair. As she straightened, the sonorous music faded for just a moment, only to be replaced with a melancholy rendition of a song the late Bann had dearly loved. Eralen winced just a split second before her mother burst into tears once again, throwing herself fully into her grief for the loss of the husband she had loved. 

With an imperceptible sigh, the elder Miss Lavellan left her mother to her weeping, calling for Orana to bring Mrs. Lavellan a cup of tea and sit with her a while until she was calm again. As the young maid nodded and hurried away, Eralen turned her face toward the music room, steeling herself to enter the whirlwind of dramatic emotion that was her younger sister. 

Passing one of the drawing rooms, she paused at the sound of voices, tilting her head toward the cracked door to briefly overhear what her half-brother and his wife were discussing. 

"Really, my dear, three women can live comfortably enough on the annuity granted by the terms of your father's will without putting you to the trouble of overseeing such a thing yourself," Goldanna was saying. "Indeed, they will be quite set up for life. And, of course, when the mother dies, the girls will receive ten thousand between them, which is not a sum to be sniffed at."

"My dear Goldanna, I made a promise to my father that I would see them cared for," Johannes answered, but even Eralen could tell he was being persuaded by his wife's greedy reasoning. "What do you say to the occasional gift of fifty gold every now and then?"

"And what would they spend it upon?" was Goldanna's reply. "In their situation, it would be more an insult than a help, I am sure, and we must think of our sweet Henry's inheritance. I feel certain your Papa never meant for you to help them with anything so vulgar as money; indeed, you need only give them the assistance they shall need when it comes to their relocation."

"No, Fanny, I must be plain on this case. My stepmother and sisters may remain here at Ostwick for as long as necessary to secure them a comfortable living."

"Of course, my dear," Goldanna soothed her husband in syrupy tones. "Yet one cannot help feeling that they cannot be allowed to engage in polite society with us. Miss Eralen is, I concede, acceptable in appearance and manner, but your stepmother and Miss Lanise are simply out of the question. Such violence of emotion cannot be allowed to stand and taint our reputation with the memory of the former incumbent."

"Oh, I quite agree on that point -"

Forcing herself not to frown, Eralen continued on, anxiously sweeping her hands down along the soft wool of her dress. So Goldanna was already working to have them gone with no inconvenience to herself; that was no surprise. She was saddened by Johannes' attitude, however. She had thought her half-brother stronger of spirit than this, yet it seemed he would bow to his wife's will. They could not expect any assistance from him. It was disappointing. But they would manage. Eralen had kept the books and helped run the household for several years now; she could keep her mother and sister from living beyond their means somehow. 

She opened the door to the music room, a sympathetic cast to her gaze as she looked upon her sister, not more than four years her junior. Lanise's eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks glistening with tears as she watched her own fingers dance heavily over the keys before her. The music was beautiful, yes - Lanise had always had a gift for it - but the heaviness of emotion she instilled into it was enough to make anyone's heart break for her. 

"Lanise, da'len," Eralen began, moving into the room to catch her sister's attention. "Could you play something else? Mamae has been weeping since breakfast."

Lanise sighed tearfully, her fingers stilling on the keys, and for a long moment, the sisters simply looked at one another - one openly passionate in her grief, the other calm and composed in spite of it. Then the younger nodded, lowering her eyes to begin playing once again. This tune was no less melancholy than the last, though lighter in sound and complexity.

"I meant something less mournful, da'len," Eralen said, but she knew she was defeated before she began.