Memories (3/4): Hideous Plates
Dragonsfall Weyr
Amber Hills Hold
Vintner Hall
Healer Hall
Hidden Meadows
Dolphin Cove Weyr
Dolphin Hall
Emerald Falls Hold
Harper Hall
Printer Hall
Green Valley Hold
Leeward Lagoon Hold
Barrier Lake Weyr
Sunstone Seahold
Citrus Bay Hold
Writers: Bree, Eimi
Date Posted: 17th September 2005
Characters: Carmora, Almonteo
Description: While cleaning out a box of keepsakes, Carmora remembers some of the most important moments of her life with Almonteo.
Location: Elsewhere on Pern
Date: month 7, day 22 of Turn 3
Carmora retied the bundle with the flowers carefully, still smiling as she placed it tenderly back in the box. There had been other days with other flower crowns... Almonteo had never gotten very good at them, but it had always been fun to wake up with flowers on her pillow, no matter _how_
mangled they'd become. Other things went back into the box, notes they'd written to each other during Almonteo's journeys, the horribly ugly hat she'd knit for their daughter while she'd been pregnant. Almonteo had teased her about her terrible knitting skills until she'd threatened to make _him_
try. She came across another scrap of paper near the bottom of the pile, one that she'd nearly forgotten about. It was just a scrap of music, not even something she could read, but she could remember all too well the morning she'd found it--and the night before.
~*~
Carmora had never considered herself a particularly calm woman. She was an honest woman, and honesty compelled her to admit that she had a temper. Not a hot temper like her mother, but one that simmered under the surface and gave way to cold anger that could last a long time. Tonight was not a night for cold anger. Staring at her husband, she wondered if she'd feel better if she wrapped her hands around his shoulders and shook him a few times. It might be hard to get him to explain just what he thought he'd been doing, though...
She opened her mouth to ask him in a very calm, even voice to explain what exactly had given him the idea to arrange their eldest daughter's fostering without consulting her first. A calm voice. A very quiet voice.
"How _dare_ you go behind my back!?"
Almonteo winced as the cutting barrage of sound hit his ears. "Carmora, you _know_ there are not suitable prospects for Calara here. At least none she wants. And we still have many friends back at Memory Lake Hold. You know they would take care of her."
"It's not a question of taking care of her," she replied, every bit as loudly as before. "It's a question of you deciding where _my_ children go without so much as _asking_ me!"
He threw his hands into the air in exasperation. "I _did_ ask you! _She_
asked you! We _all_ asked you and you made it perfectly clear that you did not want to _be_ asked! She is not a baby anymore, Carmora, she needs to start her own life!"
"She's _fifteen_!" Furious, she brushed past him and started stacking the plates from dinner up, needing something to do with her hands to keep from smacking him. He started grabbing and cups and silverware, needing a vent for his frustration as much as his wife. "She's _bored_! I don't think I need to tell you troubles a bored girl of fifteen can get into. She needs change!
She needs space! In another couple turns she's going to be married and have a family of her own. She needs to enjoy the time she has before then, for shards sake!"
Carmora wasn't thinking about the fact that she'd been only a few turns older that fifteen when Calara had been born. All she could think about was the fact that her baby girl was going to go away--somewhere where she wouldn't be a part of her life anymore. And her sharding _husband_ had arranged it without her. She shoved past him with the stack of plates and headed into the kitchen, dropping them onto the counter hard enough to rattle them. "You should have told me you were making the plans in any case!
Not waited until it was all set up!" "Oh, don't pretend that you would have been any _help_ in the matter. You made it quite clear to me that you thought your little girl belong here and nowhere else!" He set the cups and silverware down with as much gentleness as she had. "And yes, for _once_ in our marriage I actually took the husband's prerogative and made arrangements without you because I knew there was no convincing you agree to it! And why not? I _am_ the husband!" It happened without thinking. One moment she was staring at him, the next she was watching him duck as a plate flew past his shoulder and smashed into the wall behind him. The fact that _she_ had obviously thrown it was quite clear, but she couldn't remember deciding to do so. Which didn't mean she wasn't going to pick another one up and throw it at him on purpose...
Almonteo stood and looked at his wife dumb founded! She had thrown that plate at _him_? His confusion soon turned to anger, a slow burning, but red hot anger burned in his eyes. "You think throwing hard objects at my head will solve anything, Carmora?"
She hefted the second plate. "I don't know... I doubt I have anything in my kitchen hard enough to make a dent in your skull."
As the second plate whizzed past his head, Almonteo decided he had had enough. He lunged at his wife before she could grab up another projectile and threw her unceremoniously over his shoulder, seething rage soon turned to broiling hot lust as he turned and began walking her towards their bedroom.
Carmora was furious--not furious enough to kick him anywhere that would cause permanent damage and get her dropped--but angry enough to slap at his back as he hauled her into their room. "Put me down or I will break the next plate _over your head_." "If you are so intent on breaking me, wife, why not do it in a way we would both enjoy?" He flopped her firmly, unto their bed and quickly covered her body with his to prevent her escape. His lips founds her hungrily as his hands began wondering along her body, at once demanding and inviting.
She kissed him, hard and aggressive and with her fingers digging into his shoulders hard enough to bruise. After sixteen turns of marriage, her husband could play her body as skillfully as any of his instruments, and it was impossible to resist no matter _how_ angry she was.
He pushed himself to his knees, straddling her hips to block any escape and grabbing at the buttons of his shirt. Growling in frustration at wasted time he finally resorted to pulling them apart in his haste to undress.
With three children in the house they had spent turns of keeping one ear open to any sounds of movement, to any noises they could make that would attract curious attention. All that was forgotten now as Almonteo wanted only one thing - to feel his wife beneath him, on top of him, around him.
Pinned as she was, Carmora didn't bother trying to struggle with her own clothing. Not when the beautiful expanse of her husband's chest was left bare. She slid her hands up his chest and over his shoulders, digging her fingers into his arms and pulling him down for another kiss. Her husband sank down into her kiss, her fingers roving over his skin tracing lines of fire over his body. He willingly lost himself in the burning flame, hardly knowing how it happened when his mind finally began to clear that his wife was collapsed on top of him, sweat clinging to tendrils of her hair and mixing with that of his own body. Almonteo groaned as he felt the last of his frustration leave him, a contented and relived groan. He wrapped his long arms around his wife and waited for her to move, to say something - _anything_. When she did not he finally whispered, "Calara knows what she wants. She's like you in that way. And this is what she wanted more than anything in the world. I love her too much not to give it to her."
It took a long time for Carmora's breathing to even out, but finally she sighed against his chest, her fingers tracing aimless patterns on his shoulder. "You'll take me to visit her?" It was hesitant and barely audible, and sounded as if it had taken a great effort to produce the words. Almonteo sighed deeply, grateful to know that everything would be alright between them. He ran his fingers through Carmora's hair as he said, "Yes, my love. We will visit her as often as we can, for I will miss her too, you know. I will miss her very much."
"I know you will..." She shifted against him, tucking her cheek against his chest and smiling slightly. "I love you."
"And I love you, my Carmora," he whispered, not trusting his voice to break with the power of the emotion he felt for her in that moment, "more even than the day I married you."
She made a sleepy, contented sound and snuggled into his body. "I'm sorry I threw a plate at you."
He chuckled as he began kneading the muscles of her shoulders gently. "They were hideous plates anyway. A gift from your parents I believe. Break them all, I say. But next time, love, try breaking them on the floor and not on my head."
"Mmmmm..." Her breathing was already starting to even out, her body relaxed under his hands. It soon became clear that she had very little left to add to the conversation--aside from the occasional contented noise or a gentle snore.
Almonteo awoke as the first rays peeked in through the window to announce the day. His wife lay half on top of him, quietly sleeping. He gently rolled himself towards her and was satisfied as she peacefully rolled onto her back with hardly a pause in her rhythmic breathing. The harper watched her sleeping there for a moment, her hair disheveled and slightly touched with grey. He ran his fingers through it lightly so as not to disturb her, but felt his heart beat faster as a slight smile touched her lips. For a brief moment he contemplated waking her with a kiss, and to spend the morning making love to the amazing creature beside him. But after the night he had subjected her to, he felt it was best to leave her to rest.
However he could not take his eyes off of her. He began humming a simple tune as he watched the sunlight creep across her face and body. The tune became a melody as he watched the light dance in her hair. The melody soon blossomed into a song. He rose from their bed carefully. Almonteo had to write it down, had to put the song that filled his heart to paper and somehow express it. He moved to his desk and began scribbling furiously, note after note. As he lifted his pen from the final note he heard the shuffling feet of a young, sleepy child. He sighed as he slipped the scrap of paper under the stack on the side of his desk, and walked out to greet little Almora. Another day had begun.
Last updated on the September 17th 2005