Author's Preface
Merkra sat at the head of the table, Solana to his right, forks scraping against plates the only thing saving them from drowning in awkward silence. Solana had warned him this was not a good idea, but like always, she supported him even in the dumbest of circumstances. He popped a piece of pheasant into his mouth and was graciously saved by his mother-in-law.
“This is all so delicious, Merkra. You’ll have to give me this recipe.” Elanaril said taking a bite of the bird herself.
“Thank you.” He finally let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I’m glad you could join us.”
Across the table from Mrs. Sarfiel there was a not-so-subtle grunt then a sharp “Ow!”
In direct contrast to Solana’s parents, his mother sat scowling at his little sister who had just kicked her. The Sarfiels dressed like they were ready to go to a charity banquet, while his mother was in a concert t-shirt that read Gloom Riders; Eat Shit and Die! .
“Yeah, its uhh…” His mother stabbed a piece of the pheasant with her knife and stared at it as if all the adjectives she could think of failed to describe the bird. “Good.”
Merkra forced a smile through a clenched jaw before speaking. “It’s planes pheasant. Guy at the butcher shop said they’re only available when the elemental planes open up.” Solana’s slender fingers slipped over her hand. Comforting, but also reminding him that if he didn’t ease his grip, he’d ruin their silverware.
“Oooh fancy.” His mother muttered under her breath.
“Seriously?!” Scaeva’s eyes locked on their mother. “You’re going to do this right now?”
“Do what?”
“Be a huge cunt?!” Scaeva mocked her tone and then immediately turned red and turned to Solana’s parents. “I’m so sorry for my language.”
Solana’s father held up a hand, an amused smile on his lips. Taking full advantage of the permission she definitely didn’t need, Scaeva dug in.
“Merk was nice enough to invite you to this when I told him not to, and this is how you’re going to act? Mr. and Mrs. Sarfiel are two of the nicest people I know, and if you would pull the giant rod out of your ass and try to get to know them, you might see that too.”
A squeak of a laugh escaped Solana’s lips. Merkra gave her a flat, scolding look, before turning back to his sister. “Scaeva,” He’d barely gotten her name out before the wild look in her eyes turned in his direction. He rolled his eyes slightly, but didn’t push it. Unfortunately, his mother was not on the same page.
“You’re not going to speak to me like that, little girl. I don’t give a fuck where we are.” His mother stood up from her chair.
“I’ll speak to you however the hell I want.” Scaeva snapped back and stood up herself, her half titanblood frame much taller than their human mother.
“Alright, thats enough.” Merkra said, the embarrassment fading into sternness. “Both of you need to act like adults.”
“Oh, I’m not done.” Scaeva held a hand up in his direction but didn’t bother to look at him as she leaned across the table that felt far more narrow than it actually was. “You’re a fucking hypocrite. All you ever wanted was this.” She gestured around, indicating his home. You wanted us to grow up and make something of ourselves. Then one of us actually does it, and you act like you’ve been betrayed? What kind of dumb shit is that?!”
“I was betrayed.” Katarina’s expression was almost as furious as his sister’s now, the screaming match only being kept from blows by a piece of wood that grew thinner by the moment. “I taught you two better than this. I taught you to be proud of where you came from. To be proud of who you are. Not grow up and stick your dick in some fancy pants elf!”
“Enough!” Merkra stood in a flash of speed, voice booming. His chair flew and the back splintered against the wall as the table lurched forward. His eyes moved from his sister to his mother before he bowed his head to stare into his plate in front of him. Solana’s hand had recoiled at his sudden movement, but quickly replaced, fingers flexing into his.
“That,” Katarina pointed at him, “is my son. Not this hoity-toity, plane pheasant horseshit.”
“Get out.” Merkra whispered, not looking up from his plate.
“What?” He could hear the confusion on her face. There was no need to look up.
“Get. Out.” He repeated a bit louder.
“What? Why?”
His head snapped up, jaw clenched. He could feel his blood boiling, but before he could say anything, Solana stood.
“We would like you to leave, Mrs. Grommash.” She spoke, calm, refined.
Katarina’s face screwed up like she’d just eaten something off. “I don’t know who the fuck you think you…”
“Now!” Merkra’s nostrils flared, lip twitching, just slightly exposing his teeth.
His mother jumped at the sound, then grumbled under her breath, but did collect her back and storm out of the room.
Merkra remained standing, gripping the edges of the table hard until he heard the front door slam. He pulled the table back to its original position, and turned to gather what remained of his chair and push it under the table where he’d been sitting.
“I’m sorry.” He regarded his in-laws. “I should have kept myself in check.”
“Nonsense.” Faelor stood and placed a hand on Merkra’s back. “Your behavior was perfectly reasonable considering the situation. Ladies, if you’ll excuse us, Merkra and I are going to go have a drink.”
The much smaller man led him out of the room by the arm and into the kitchen. Merkra sat on one of his barstools, and his father-in-law grabbed a bottle of dark liquor from his cabinet and poured them each a glass.
“Thank you.” Merkra said, tracing a finger along the lip of the glass before picking it up.
“I find it’s usually best to remove myself from the area when I lose my temper. Even if it is completely justified.” Faelor tapped the tip of his glass to Merkra’s, and they both sipped. They sat in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “I know I’m not your father, but would you mind a bit of hard earned and completely unsolicited advice?”
“Please,” Merkra gave him a nod.
“Talk to your mother. Just the two of you.” He grimaced a little and looked down at the liquor in his glass before back up at him. “It is possible your differences are irreconcilable. In which case, it may be best to make a clean cut. However, I’m not unsympathetic to the way she must feel.”
“What do you mean?”
“We come from vastly different socioeconomic backgrounds. The struggles you and your mother must have gone through, well I simply wouldn’t be able to imagine.” Faelor swirled the dark brown liquid.
“That doesn’t give her the right to act like that.” Merkra shook his head, more embarrassed than actually angry at this point.
“I agree, and that is where the line in the sand is I’m afraid.” He nodded his head toward the diningroom. “These sorts of get-togethers are going to be far more frequent once that baby comes around. I don’t expect your mother to be friendly with myself or my wife, but you, Solana, and little Aurellia are a package deal. If she can’t accept that.” He paused and shrugged. “Well, at least the child will not be left without a strong titanblood woman role model will she? That sister of yours is something to behold.”
Merkra snorted as the illustrious elf grinned at him, and the two of them laughed together.