Lummatii
Lothian League
Marian Hegemony
The Periphery
3 September, 3149
"Thank you for joining us this evening, Freyja." While she still found herself rather uncomfortable with her current situation, Freyja couldn't deny that Clarissa Bakker had gone to great lengths to make her feel at ease. In the time that she had served the Bakkers, she had come to see the qualities that must have made the lady of the house a good medic in her days in the military. She had a warm and welcoming quality not only to her words, but in her eyes, that helped calm anxiety in many people.
"Of course, it is always my pleasure, my Lady," Freyja replied as the cover was removed from the platter that held the steaming bird that would serve as the evening's main dish. At first she had been nervous dining with the family, but as time had passed and the invitations grew more frequent, she had come to almost enjoy them.
"Today marks six months since you came to us, Miss Freyja. I hope after that passage of time, that you find life here perhaps not altogether as grim as you may have feared back then." Ned Bakker's tone was cordial, but far less reassuring than his wife's. He was kind enough, but she found sometimes that he had a distant quality to him that did not foster the same kind of trust as Freyja was only just starting to build with Clarissa.
"Yes, my Lord. And I am grateful for that," she said as she cast her gaze slightly downward. Where she had no problem meeting the warm, grey eyes of Mrs. Bakker, she still found her tone and manner to be overtly deferential around Ned.
The dining room was a large one, but the size of the table was always adjusted to the number of guests. Careful arrangement of the furniture kept a warm and close feel to the room when the size of the dinner party was small, as it was tonight, though it could easily be moved and expanded to seat many more guests. Ned sat at the head of the rectangular table, and his wife at the opposite end. Ned was dressed in a suit, as he always seemed to be, this one of a gray fabric that seemed to catch the light of the candles illuminating the room rather remarkably. Clarissa wore a dress, as she often did, of a deep blue color that contrasted vividly with her pale complexion, but paired almost exactly with the blue gemstone that was the centerpiece of the choker style necklace she wore.
The children were seated on opposite sides of the table, the son, Peter, at his mother's right hand and their daughter, Madeline, at her left. Madeline wore a dress not dissimilar to her mother's, although of a far lesser quality fabric and with a far more conservative and practical bodice. Peter wore an almost military style shirt, of a gray that matched closely his father's suit.
For her part, Freyja always felt under dressed for these dinners, making due with the limited wardrobe she had brought with her. She wore snug fitting black trousers, tucked into her best knee-length boots and a rather simple white cotton blouse. She had, at least, taken the time to meticulously braid her golden blonde hair.
The meal progressed, and Freyja was careful not to eat too quickly. One of the first things she had noticed about her time in servitude was the degradation of her manners when it came to eating. She normally ate alone, and quite quickly, simple meals prepared by the house staff, and at her first few evenings dining with the Bakkers she had noticed that she ate rather quickly. Since then she had made a point to slow down, returning to the manners in which she had been raised.
The main course had concluded and the kitchen staff had brought out glasses for some kind of local wine. As the last of their glasses had been poured, and just as Freyja reached out and touched her glass, Ned Bakker spoke up, and she froze.
"I'm curious, Miss Freyja, when were you planning on telling me that you have been instructing my son in BattleMech piloting?" His gaze fixed on her like a TAG laser.
Her eyes darted across the table to Peter, who looked practically mortified, before she brought her gaze to settle on Ned's hand, unwilling to meet his eyes. After several seconds of silence, she found her voice, if somewhat weakly. "I..my apologies, My Lord. I..."
As she searched for words, Ned cut her off, though not forcefully, "You didn't expect that I would find out, am I right?" When all she managed was a nod, he continued, as her heart pounded in her chest. "Young lady, when things go on around here that I don't know about, that's when you should be worried. So, tell me, did Peter put you up to this?"
She deliberately fought the urge to glance across at the boy again. "No sir. It was entirely my idea. Master Peter had made mention of the fact that he plans to enlist in the Marian military come next year, and I saw the reverence with which he treated your Mech, and so I thought he might like to get a feel for Mech piloting before he left. I swear, my lord, I meant no harm, I sought only to give him a leg up in his studies. Your displeasure should be focused on me." She lifted her eyes for a moment to meet Lord Bakker's, before lowering them again.
There was silence for a moment. Peter retained his look of terror. Madeline's eyes darted between her brother and her father. And Clarissa remained stoic, almost unreadable as she glanced slowly at her son, at Freyja, then at her husband.
Ned Bakker let out a sigh. "I am not upset with your training of my son. What upsets me is the fact that you made a decision regarding my son without consulting me, his father."
Freyja swallowed hard, and wasn't entirely sure why she did what came next. "Begging your lordship's pardon, but is not Master Peter sixteen years old, and his own man in the eyes of the law of these lands?"
She was focused too hard on keeping herself from trembling as her heart beat nearly out of her chest to notice the tiny smile that formed in the corners of Mrs. Bakker's mouth, even as Ned spoke. "Girl, do you presume to tell me my own family business? Peter may be a man in the eyes of the law but in my house, it is my judgement that counts. And he has a lot of growing to do before he becomes a man, in many ways."
"Then why not let him?" She blurted the words out without thought, and too quickly realized she should not have uttered them.
Ned grunted, though it was so lighthearted as to almost be a chuckle. "Well girl, I'll give you this, you're settling in as a member of the household alright."
She searched for the words to recover. "My lord, I'm sorry, I've spoken out of turn, I should think-"
He held up his hand as he stopped her. "Yes, you should probably think before you speak. But, you should also let me finish. I'll ask that as part of your duties, you continue giving my son whatever training and advice as you think you can. It's not the choice I'd have made on my own, but perhaps there's some wisdom in it. And more to the point, I can see that your motives in doing it are sound, or you'd have not risked speaking so rashly. A toast then, to Peter's continued training, may he not land my Mech face first in the mud."
As each of them recovered from their shock, they drank to the toast, before an awkward silence fell over the room. Ned broke the silence once again. "Also, given that, I see my inclination was right about tomorrow. In addition to this being the six month mark of you joining us, it's also, rather unfortunately, the time that I must go and pay the estate's tax to the Lord Governor. I'd like for you to accompany Peter and I when we go to pay it tomorrow."
Freyja looked confused. "I'm afraid I don't understand entirely."
Ned took another drink of the dark wine. "It's simple enough. Just as I have tenants that pay me rent on my lands, I also have to pay a tax to the Lord Governor for this province. The feudal system has stood up quite well out here in the Periphery, even if it's been twisted and bloated back in the Inner Sphere. Most of the tax is paid in hard coin, but some of it will be in goods, and I'll have to deliver it personally, to pay my respects and allegiance to his lordship. Peter, as you so pointedly noted, has reached his majority, and so he'll have to go along and register with the Lord Governor's Warden for service should the need arise."
It all seemed reasonable enough. The system had been fairly invisible to Freyja growing up in the military nobility. But for these people, it was present in almost everyday life, as she was now learning having been knocked considerable down the ladder of social status.
"I see. But why am I to come along, sir?" That part she hadn't quite worked out yet in her head.
"For one, you've earned a degree of latitude. You've not given me cause to question your service, you've not tried to undermine me estate or try to escape. I feel like you're coming to accept your place here. So it seems only fair that you should get to see a little more of this planet than just the estate here and the mines."
In that he was wrong. Or at least partially so. She didn't accept her place as a slave, she couldn't. There was no way she could envision her life that way. But at the same time, he was partially correct insofar as she was beginning to feel as though she were a part of the family. Stockholm Syndrome, she told herself.
"And secondly, traveling to Abercrombie, the provincial capital can be a bit rough, it's always good to have a few people along with you to watch your back. When we go tomorrow, it will be your job to watch Peter's back."
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