Topic: A Place To Call Home

Sjira

Date: 2011-11-20 18:00 EST
For more than a few weeks, thoughts had been of many things but one that kept surfacing was a place to call home.

Years, nearly four and a half of them, she had been within RhyDin's great realms and had kept a room at the inn for self or with Panther at the Loft over the stables that stood within walking distance of the Red Dragon Inn.

Now that her walk was one alone again and likely to stay as such, the small one was thinking of a house. It was an incredulous thing for her to even consider for more than a moment's time.

Never had she owned house or land. But again, these thoughts were resurfacing until she spoke with one of the landsmen who sold and bartered land and holdings for others.

He spoke of an old cottage to the north of one of the walls that protects RhyDin city. It stands in an clearing where trees of the forrest stand to all sides and the stream is close enough to draw water from for animals and cooking.

That afternoon, he would take her to it and if the small one liked it, she might have the chance for buying it. With a heart light to think on it, she hurried through her work that day.

Sjira

Date: 2011-11-26 11:26 EST
Upon their arrival, s'jira sat upon the large black stallion and looked upon the house that the lands-seller had brought her to see.

It was not what the small woman or any might have called a true cottage, but it was more the person she was than others.

The small woman lingered where she was, taking in the sight of the dwelling's thatch room and fieldstone walls. A single window faced the yard of the house that stood on handful of acres. Its doorway was ample enough and taller than self.

To the right of the home on its property was a barn and corral and nearly to every side were trees, and more tree.

S'jira smiled and slid down from the back of Trygg. A dress of plain, brown was adjusted about hips and thighs, then pulled the old large cloak about self to keep warm in the winter's weather that caused her breath to cloud up before her.

The reins of the horse were used to draw him forward, but let the leather straps fall to the ground. There, the horse waited patiently while 'jira made her way across a most simple of thresholds.

Once inside, she paused again. She had not meant to laugh, but could not help it. Mirth was enough to bring a curious look from the lands-seller but it was something she had not seen. What eyes took in, instead, was an fully open area at the immediate front of the home where the gathering room and kitchen were one room.

To the right, a modest hearth and stout wooden chair with pelts overdraping it was. Beside the chair was a matching table that was just big enough to put a small array of items on it. But it stood as barren as the woodbeam mantel.

To her left, the kitchen area had a smaller cooking hearth. Storage and shelves were open things cut and worked into the stony wall of the place. A table that could seat four to six people had two benches; one to either side.

Directly across from the entrance, on a path that took her through the middle of the forefront of the home, there was another door's way. She moved way from the main door to that one. Hinges groaned something gutteral and mournful with a great need for oil as she pushed at it. It took a few tries, but she finally managed to push it aside.

When the door opened, enough light pour in to see a bed immediately to its right, more shelves worked into the interior walls, a table and chair along with pegs imbedded in the wall to hang things on.

The smell of it all was of earthy stones, wood, and soot from fires long-dormant. She stole a look of the beams above and the thatch beyond it. From what could be seen at the time, there were no holes. Rains or melting snow would tell more.

A long while, the small one moved from one area of the home to another, then finally, moved back outside into the yard of the home where the lands-seller stood beside his horse.

"It is wondered, are there others who want this home?" S'jira spent a look about the property and lingered attention on the barn and delapidated corral. Then reins of leather was drawn up from the ground while she looked to the lands-seller again.

"This?" It seemed he nearly gave something away, of his opinion of a place he would have never bought for himself perhaps. "No."

"Then, if it is well with you..it will be paid for."

His hand was offered out towards her and awaited that payment.
It was not long before coin was exchanged and the other left her there without further word, only a parchment with signature and seal that it was hers.

Though it was perhaps what few would have purchased for themselves, but it was hers and to s'jira it was a bit of heaven.

http://i599.photobucket.com/albums/tt74/ISjiraI/sjirahouse2.jpg

Sjira

Date: 2011-12-17 13:07 EST
The hour was late when the festival at the Glen was over the night before. She saw to Trygg at stables and made her way to the room she kept at the Red Dragon in case she could not make the way home safely.

When she had rested and risen the next morning, she rode Trygg to the home that was now hers. The yard of the home was frozen mud and rock, bespeaking years before of much use by those who had lived there.

After Trygg was settled to the small barn with fresh hay and feed, she closed the door to it to keep the bite of winter from getting too much to the large, black horse.

Shivering, she hurried off to one of the piles of wood that one of the local wood cutters had seen to for her. Each would have been considered a full cord by such standards and more than enough to see the small woman for her warmth and cooking through the rest of RhyDin's winter months. Two trips from the wood piles were made, cold biting and her breath misting on the air before her. Soon, she had brought into the modest cottage of stone and thatch enough for the hearth and the little cooking stove.

She bumped the door closed and it swayed back open a few inches from it not closing all the way. The wood was dropped on the flagstones hearthside, at its right. She left it there long enough to head back to the door's way to push the door closed again and pulled the rope and the large toggle piece of wood, pushing the piece into the large metal loop and securing the door properly.

A fire in the hearth was labored at and brought to life until fire crackled and poppped in the small, stoney belly of the fireplace. Satisfied that the the necessity of it was started, she rose up from her knees and put a few of the logs into a firewood cratebox. The last two were carried with her, through the tiny living area and into the section that served to hold a table and seating for eating. The cooking hearth was started and left to go to coals and embers for later use.

Only then did 'jira finally see to removing the cloak. To one of several, wooden pegs embedded into a stout strip of wood near the left of the door and just above eye level for the small woman, she hung her cloak beside the larger, older one that had been Panther's years ago. They contrasted in material with hers being a light brown and his nearly black.

Wearing her sturdy, simple long-sleeved winter dress of brown, she bent at the waist to removed each of her boots. They were put beneath the hems of the cloaks there doorside as well. Wriggling her toes before she headed off to whisk broom the living areas well until the pile was pushed gently into the hearth at one of its front corners to serve as kindling. The whisk broom was leant against the side stones of the hearth.

And still cold, 'jira lowered down on the rug of deer pelt. Dragging down a rough woven, heavy blanket from the thickly wrought, wooden chair she pulled it about self and spent the next half an hour warming up and resting. She had not meant to fall asleep, but there she eased down and curled up in the quiet of a place where quiet and safety was found.