It was hot summer afternoon when Mara, 12, was dismissed from her boring Chantry focused lessons. She immediately sought out and talked to Mihri, youngest, and elven, servant of the household. Mihri was the closest in age to Mara of the remaining youth in the house and had been paired as a playmate from a very young age to Mara. The line between servant and family member was a little blurred most of the time except when Mara's father, Bann Trevelyan was home.
Mara talked Mihri into accompanying her towards the slums. The same slums Mara had been told by Aunt Lucille rather strongly to avoid every time they'd been nearby in the family carriage. This, of course, added an edge of wilderness to a place that naturally had none. Mihri had been declining to play act with Mara lately; probably thought she was getting too old for such things. Neverthless, Mara was particularly determined and Mihri was of a compliant personality. Mihri eventually agreed with the comment,"I need to finish my chores first. And we won't go in very far, okay?"
Mara had been dressed for her tendency towards outside play with plainer sturdier clothing by Mihri just this morning. When the time came for them to sneak out, everyone of the household seemed to be trapped in the mid evening haze of heat that mostly kept you focused on staying cool. They walked past the shops selling frivolous things and clothing, past the black smith and carriage repair area, past the animals and finally, the edge of the slums came into view. Mara was darting in and out of the growing shadows, sometimes crouching and eyeing Mihri dramatically. Mihri rolled her eyes, shifting the basket in her arm she'd brought along to make it look like there was an actual point to their walk.
"What are we this time?" Mihri asked, after Mara partially completed a roll across the ground. Graceless, it mostly just covered her in a little dirt and hay from the side of the road.
"I'm a bard." Mara dropped her voice lower to add effect. "And you are a spy sent to kill Mother. I've got to stop you and kill you first." Mihri raised one brow at her. Mara had been fascinated with the idea of bards ever since Mara had found out that her "Uncle" Philliam was one.
"That's not how bards work." Mihri replied. Mara walked ahead, then turned back.
"Well, how do they work?" Mara quipped back. Mihri frowned.
"I just know that's not how bards work."
"See, you don't know."
With that, they walked through the edge of the slum neighborhood. There wasn't exactly a line pointing out where the slums began, but you could see it in the care of the homes. Mara resumed her shadow darting, which was fine with Mihri, as it slowed their progress into unfamiliar territory. It seemed the same sleepy haze that had control of the Trevalyan house was upon the people in this neighborhood too. Not much was going on in the streets, Mara observed. That's part of the job of a Bard. Notice things. Mara spied a crate upturned at a dead end between two buildings and pointed it out to Mihri and they both headed that way. Mara gave Mihri instructions.
"Okay, so I'm going to sing and then I'll notice that you are pulling a dagger out of your basket and I'll jump and take it from you."
"I have no dagger." Mihri quickly replied, as attempt to end this before it got much further.
Mara grinned mischievously, reached into the basket and rifled through it a bit before pulling out a small carving knife. Mihri's eyes widened, "I didn't know that was in there."
"Well, now you do. Start pulling it out when my back is turned, and then I'll catch you when I turn back. Come on." Mara climbed on top of the crate and cleared her throat. "Ladies and Gentleman, a song, in honor of the house Trevelyan." and began "Hero in Every Port".
Mihri grimaced. A song "Uncle" Philliam had shared with Mara on his last visit, no doubt. At least Mara's singing lessons made it far more bearable. As Mara completed it, she waggled her brows at Mihri to signal her. Mihri gave the appropriate polite applause as Mara started bowing to an invisible large audience around her. As she turned to bow with her back turned, Mihri actually carefully threw the knife into some litter to the side. Mihri didn't know how aggressive Mara was planning on being and didn't want an actual knife near either of them for their play. She then feigned the act of pulling something out of the basket for Mara's benefit.
Mara turned back to face Mihri with a smile that quickly died. At first, Mihri was merely impressed at Mara's acting ability. The worry on her face looked actually real. But then Mihri heard a whistle and claps behind her and her breath froze in her chest. She slowly turned around to find a well dressed man walking towards them, a few rings on his hands gleaming in the twilight.
"Hello, ladies." He said, with a little bit of a slur and a leer as his eyes looked Mihri up and down.
Mihri grasped at the first thing that came to mind. "Hello, ser. Lady Trevelyan and I were out for a walk on this warm evening but we were just on our way back." Mihri gave a meaningful look at Mara, and tried to communicate that Mara should sneak out of the alley as best she could.
The name Trevelyan gave the man pause and he gave both girls a second look in caution. Their plain cloths and current location did not help their cause, obviously, as the man grinned and relaxed. "Yeah, and I'm the prince of Starkhaven. How about you quit babysitting and spend some time with me?" He came near and grasped Mihri's arm as he finished his sentence. Mihri quaked inside, but stood firm. "No, ser, you are quite mistaken, if you would unhand me, I'm sure you could be made to understand..."
Mihri and the man had both taken their eyes off Mara during their exchange, and were both startled as Mara shrieked. Mara jumped at him with the knife Mihri had thrown to the side before, cutting his arm. Angry, He let go of Mihri. Taking the knife from Mara, he back handed her across the face, knocking her to the ground a few feet away.
Mihri lunged for the knife, trying to pry his fingers off it. A bit of a confused struggle ensued as the man cursed them both. Mara looked up from she lay on the ground, her cheek stinging frightfully. She tasted blood and her head was thumping quite a bit. She focused on the man fighting with Mihri. Mara picked herself up, crouching, and then ran headlong into the man from behind intending to knock him away from Mihri. Instead, the man fell into Mihri and both to the ground as Mara fell, more than rolled, to the left having totally lost her balance.
Mara was a bit out of breath, but everything had gone still. Then she heard the man grunt and shift as he got back up,"You stupid whores--" Then a choking sound. Mara sat up and saw Mihri laying still on the ground then at the man kneeling next to her " I didn't... All I'd wanted was some fun--" He looked at Mara in what she'd later come to realize was anger, fear, and denial. At that moment, however, Mara noticed the blood on his hands. And just how still Mihri was. Her mind felt fuzzy as she made her way over to Mihri, reached out to cup her shoulder. The man had stood up, started backing away. "I... just..." And then he simply left very quickly, escaping the scene he'd just been apart of.
Mara finally spoke, a whisper, "Mihri?" Mara touched the area of red at Mihri's waist, warm blood coated Mara's finger tips and she snatched her hand back. "Mihri..." Mara had seen the stillness of death at last year's tourney when one of the combatants had fallen wrong from his horse. Nevertheless, her mind refused to accept as she put Mihri's head in her lap and began to rock over Mihri. The tears from her eyes burned as some entered the cut on her face, and every time either blood or tears dropped on Mihri's quiet face, Mara gently wiped them from away.
This is how the rest of the servants of house Trevelyan found her.
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Mara refused anything more than a simple bandage for the cut on her right cheek. Her father, the Bann, gave her a firm lecture when he returned home for a visit a few days later. Mara remained stoic throughout, her amethyst eyes downcast. After the Bann left, Mihri went to her mother. Her mother fretted over Mara's bandage, something about a very bad scar, but Mara waved her off, the first bit of energy she'd shown since her childhood friend's death.
"You've found out who it was. How will he pay?" Mara practically growled. The tone stilled her mother, and the woman looked at her daughter with serious eyes.
"He won't be invited to any of our parties, darling, and not a single one of several of our good friends either."
Mara eyes widened in incredulity. "Parties?! He killed Mihri! She's dead, and he isn't going to get to go to parties?"
Mother averted her eyes. Mara noticed her mother's face looked quite puffy, as if she'd been crying. "There isn't much we can do..." Mara angrily turned away and her mother grasped her shoulder. "Mihri was a... There just isn't a way..." Mara shrugged violently away from her mother and left the room.
If nobility let you get a way with murder, then Mara wanted nothing to do with it or a Mother that accepted it.