The refugees trudge and shamble down what may have once been a cobbled road, but had turned to simple dirt from decades of wear and misuse. Mirabel Wheeler grips the strap of her pack firmly, with white knuckles, as if at any moment fate will steal it from her too--adding her last worldly possessions to the pile of joys she'd been robbed of. She looks to her husband with sad eyes, but his gaze on ahead without notice. He had barely spoken. Not since they buried Benett, and their farmhand Owen.
The trail of people comes to a halt in a small hollow; just as easy to defend as it would be to get trapped in. Mira finds a shady spot under a tree, and pulls out the blankets they'd been using as bedrolls. The night passes in silence. The campfire in the centre of the camp flickers and dances, but they are all of them too weary to talk or sing. What little food the others have, they share amongst themselves, but she knows Martel will always be too proud to beg. It is better to spend the night hungry than disgraced, if only for the time being.
At long last, dawn breaks. They awake to the dull roar of morning conversations, clinking tools, and scuffling feet. And far, far up the path, through the stirred dust and early-morning shadow, Mirabel can almost discern someone approaching camp
Rick sat on the back of his horse, that really belongs to the Stable Master who lets him borrow it for hunting and riding. His cloak was drawn around him, yet his hood was down low and his hair damp from the moisture in the air despite the summer morning, though upon noting the group ahead he digs his heels into the flank of his horse and speeds along, making short time in between seeing and arriving. He pulls on the reins and stays a bit away from the rest of the camp, raising his hand to show he comes peacefully.
"Are you the refugees from the Kingsfell farms?!", he shouts to them.
One of the men guarding the edge of the camp calls back, in a low, gruff voice: "Aye. What is it to you?"
"I'm Rick Woodruff, from Trestlebridge! Come to help all the refugees move safely!" He spoke out, before flicking his eyes over the faces infront of him. "Are the Wheelers with you? Martel and Maribell Wheeler."
The man nods, and gestures toward the back of the group. "Should find them back there," he replies, returning to his business.
Rick nods to them with a smile, dismounting his horse and taking it by the reins before he makes his way through the camp. He had no idea what they looked like, so he looked for people that would look most like Bee.
Mirabel raises an eyebrow at the newcomer, uttering a small comment to her husband. One can easily see that Tilly inherited her mother's auburn hair and hazel eyes, although there is no trace of the woman in Bee's looks, which are taken from her father--now slightly greying with a full beard, but sharing the same moss green eyes as his daughter.
Rick kept walking through, pausing to take a good moment looking around before catching the gaze of the woman watching him. He squinted briefly in thought, imagining Tilly a few decades older. "Mrs Wheeler, by any chance?"
Mirabel blinks. "I--why yes dear I am, what can I do for you?"
"I'm Rick Woodruff, from Trestlebridge." For a moment he wasn't quite sure how to put it, and he squeezed his fingers with his other hand. "Your daughter is Bietrix? I'm her.. partner, courting her."
Mirabel raises an eyebrow and nudges Martel. "Martie did you hear him?" she asks in a hushed yet rather unsubtle tone.
"Hm?" "Bee's courting." The man snorts. "Right and I'm your Aunt Sue."
"Martie," she chides. "I'm serious--look at the boy he looks serious." Mira looks back at Rick and smiles. "I'm sorry dear, perhaps you should fill us in a bit more on the details."
"Well.. your daughter arrived in Trestlebridge with her sister, Tilly, all safe and sound. I came across her and welcomed her to the town and well.. we've taken it from there really, but because her parents were not around I couldn't ask permission to court her, please do forgive me for that. However, Mr Severin Wheeler seems perfectly fine with it as her guardian."
Martel straightens up from his packing, crossing his arms. "She's not been there more than a month. Moving rather quickly, aren't you?"
"Well.. she's the one for me, and I'm the one for her.. we dont want to wait to share our lives together. She is very happy, as am I, more happy than I've been in years, Mr Wheeler.", Rick looks to him with a smile and a slight nod.
He narrows his eyes. "And you're doing right by her? My daughter is a respectable young woman. If I hear you've jeopardised that in any way we'll be having words."
Mirabel rolls her eyes. "Well you seem like a very nice young man, Rick. Have you any news on how Tilly fares?"
Rick nods his head a few times, before looking to Mirabel with a smile. "Tilly is fine the last time I saw her, quite the temper on her.. especially with all these sellswords that are in Trestlebridge."
Mirabel chuckles. "You're an observant one. Now these sellswords, they're not causing too much trouble are they?" she asks, shouldering her pack.
"A bit of trouble, but you mustn't worry, I'm keeping both Bee and Tilly safe from harm." He smiled to them both as he looked between them. "There was another thing I was meaning to ask you.. to keep Bee even safer."
Mirabel's brows knit together in concern. "Oh? Is everything alright? She's not fallen ill, has she? She always did make a habit of it..."
"Oh no, nothing like that.. she's as healthy as ever! I'm making sure she is kept well fed, I'm a hunter you see." He smiled proudly before he asked out, swallowing his nerves briefly. "I was wondering whether.. you'd let me marry her..? I never asked about the courting, which I apologise about.. but I have the courtesy and manners to ask for marriage."
Martel shakes his head. "We've known you all of five minutes," he responds. "Travel with us. We shall make our decision in town."
"Aye, right you are. Do you need anything carried? This horse here can take the weight of a few packs, I can walk infront leading it, it will relieve the weight from your shoulders." He smiled warmly as he patted the back of the saddle.
Mirabel smiles. "That would be lovely."
It was coming close to early evening by the time the trail of refugees managed to get to the Trestlespan, and even at this point the horses were tired despite having seen many days of hard work on the farms. Rick walked nearer to the front of the line, along with the Wheelers, leading the familiar way to those that followed behind. "At this time of day, your daughters would most likely be readying for supper, or Bee will be looking for myself." He smiles warmly to the two, stepping out to the side of the Trestlespan to allow the other refugees wander past into town.
Martel snorts. "Quite an ego on this one," he comments to his wife. Maribel elbows him. "Be nice, Martie, he likes Bee."
"Are you two planning on staying with Mr Severin? I can take you to his house, your daughters could be there. Tilly most surely."
Maribel smiles kindly. "We did hope too--we couldn't send word ahead, things being as they are... The boys will be heading on further south." She purses her lips and looks to her husband. "Tilly'll be heartbroken to hear about Owen."
Martel doesn't comment, and his wife returns her attention to Rick. "If you could show us the way, that'd be lovely. It's been so long since we visited and town is so... erm. Different."
Rick nods his head with a smile, "Of course, of course!" He then makes his way over the Trestlespan, looking at the house where he is staying to see whether Bee was standing outside, commenting to her parents. "That is where my family are living.. all twelve of us, after our old one got burnt down we got put into one small room."
"Oh my, twelve?" Mirabel asks. "However do you manage?" There doesn't seem to be any sign of Bee.
"Well, we all pitch in here and there.. I'm out of the house most the day, so there is just enough room to breathe." Rick chuckles slightly, before he carries on up the path, to the outside of Severin's house with a bright smile on his lips.
Bee sits idly on the edge of the porch as she usually does, this time mending the elbows of her cousin's coat, seemingly very focused without Rick there to distract her.
As they round the bend, Mirabel catches sight of her youngest daughter. The plump middle aged woman calls out her name, waving and rushing over (while her husband continues alongside Rick).
"Bee! Oh stars you've gotten so thin! Does Uncle Severin never feed you girls? I'm sure Tilly looks just fine but you had nothing to lose to start with!" the woman fusses.
Bee laughs and sets aside her mending, slipping off of the porch to hug her mother. "I'm eating just fine, ma. Rick's taking care of me."
Rick continues to walk alongside Martel until they draw closer, smiling towards Bee but not interfering yet. He looked towards her father, as if asking a silent question.
Martel's face softens somewhat upon seeing his daughter, and she pulls free of her mother to rush over and hug him too. After a moment, however, her smile falls. "Where's Benett?"
Maribel swallows hard and goes to place a hand on her daughter's shoulder. "Bee I'm--"
"Benett is dead," her father says, his voice lowered, as if to compensate for the harshness of the words to follow. "He and Owen died protecting the rest of us, on the road south. They're buried a week from here by foot."
"Bee I'm sorry," Maribel says gently, pulling her back into her arms and giving her husband a look more sad than scolding. "Chin up, sweetheart," she continues, tucking one of Bee's wayward curls behind her ear. "There will be time to mourn when we have settled. As a family."
Bee nods, and rubs her eyes. "I see you met Rick," she sniffles, a bit halfheartedly.
Rick smiles sadly, having learnt the grim fate of her brother and when her parents had stopped embracing her, he wandered over and moved an arm around her in a hug much alike she has given him when his own sibling passed. "It'll be okay, love."
Bee wraps her arms around his waist and holds him tight. "Did you ask them?" she murmurs, "For permission, I mean?"
"I did... they want your thoughts too." Rick mumbles back, a smile on his lips.
"But what did they say?" she presses. "You know my thoughts."
"They said they want to speak to you first, even though I told them your thoughts." He shrugged before he leaned in to give her a kiss on the forehead. "I'll ask again soon.."
Bee nods, smiling a little. Her gaze returns to her mother's, and her smile fades to pursed lips and a difficulty finding the right words.
"I should fetch Aunt Liza," she excuses herself. "Tilly's out, I'm not sure where, and Uncle Severin's working... But by all means, come inside."
She slips free of Rick's arms and goes to take her mother's arm, leading them all into home at the top of the stone steps. The space has a higher ceiling than expected. Baskets and herbs hang from the rafters for extra storage, but the worn furniture still has charm clinging to it, and the large fireplace keeps the rest of the house dimly lit for the mostpart.
Rick follows along, deciding to take a few of their packs and bags in for them. He lingers at the back, though he does try to stop her father for a moment. "Have you any more thought on what I asked of you near a week ago, Sir? Now that you have seen how Bee fares and how she smiles with me?"
Martel sighs long and heavy, as if some fraction of his soul is escaping him. "Is she happy?"
"In her own words, the happiest she's been in a long time."
"And you treat her well? You'll take good care of her?"
"I'll treat her better than I would treat myself, with her always first. She is my jewel in the ashes."
Martel claps him soundly on the shoulder. "Then you are all of what my wife hopes you are and more. Whatever Bee decides, my blessing goes with it."
Rick wasn't able to hold back his smile, as he nodded a few times swiftly, "Thank you, Mr Wheeler, very much." He glances towards the door, "and tell thank you to your wife for me, please."
Martel cracks a small smile of his own, looking across the room at Bee, where she's seemingly been trapped in conversation with Liza and Mirabel. "I will. Now quit thanking me before I change my mind." He means it in jest, though it doesn't sound like it.
Rick grins at him before he stands up, and wanders over towards Bee as he offered out his hand. "Can I borrow you a moment? Something's outside for us I think."
Bee raises an eyebrow. "There is?" she asks curiously, taking his hand.
Rick leads her through the room, smiling at Martel as they slip out the door. After they exit, he turns towards her and digs into his pocket. He crouched down then, holding out a simple yet polished ring of silver, clearly having cost a fair bit. "Will you marry me, Bee?"
Bee's eyes widen and she utters a soft "Oh stars," as her hands move to cover her face. She nods her head quickly, offering out her left hand. "Oh Rick, I'm the happiest girl in the world," she exclaims.
Rick smiles widely as he slips the ring on her finger, before standing up and embracing her. "And I the happiest man!"
Bietrix leans up, pulling him into a soft kiss just for a moment. "Shall we tell them?" she murmurs.
He returns the kiss to her, an arm moving around her. "We shall.. soon the whole town will know."
"Good," she grins. "I want everyone to know just how lucky I am that you found me, Rick. And how much I love you."
Rick grins as he squeezes her in tighter. "And I love you, Bietrix!"
