[Authors Note: If there is a superscript beside a term or phrase, be assured that there will be a definition/explanation at the bottom]
The Blæds were originally a line of ordinary blacksmiths, living on the edge of the Southern coast.
It was only after the rise of Hardwin Blæd, the Thunder Blade (as some swordsmanship enthusiasts like to say), or the Dragon Slayer (as most people know him by) that their hereditary duties changed. They moved, by the order of the King, to the cold, non-coveted Edge Lands, a strip of untamed area between the Caaspian Kingdom and the Empire, where they still remain today; protecting the fragile peace between the creatures inside, and the ravenous humanity outside.
But nowadays, it's an old glory.
He was now only called "dad," an ordinary man who milked cows, kissed his wife goodnight, rode with wild horses beyond the plains, and of course, helped in the kitchen.
"Hardwin, Addie is back now. The girl was picking flowers on Béarn Beorg all by herself, she told me... I think she gets that ghastly stubbornness from you, definitely not from me." Ainsley's mother implied with fatigue, though she was sure that stubbornness was surely some characteristic of hers and that admitting it would only make it worse.
"Does she? I can't seem to recall who wanted to marry me so much, that she sent daily love letters and treasures to my residence for 4 straight months-"
"Hardwin!"
"See my dear, it appears that she takes after you completely," said her husband. He was a tall, sleekly handsome man of long black locks with the beauty of a woman; silky hair that was loosely tied down the front; mocking, yet strikingly bright amber eyes; skin like pale ivory. Surely, he did not look like the type of man who seemed to crush rocks with his bare hands.
"... Perhaps she does..." Ainsley's mother looked thoughtfully at her "Harwy" who chopped vegetables by her side, and continued. "At least, she didn't get any of my worse ones, then it'd be hard to manage her!" She chuckled, chucking a piece raw carrot into her mouth, then received a kiss.
"You know that's not true Delia."
"That's hard to say."
"Is it?"
"Mhm, yes it is. Not a lot of men can handle someone who doesn't want to be a constant housewife..." Delia took a pause, as if for comedic purposes, and carried on with a half-joking tone. "Especially not Charles."
Hardwin smirked, his amber eyes rounding into foxy crescents against his thick eyelashes. "Yes darling, especially... keuk," and he started laughing, finally setting down the cutting knife and the poor carrot.
"What's so funny?" Addie quietly queried, peeking through the cabin window from the outside. Her hands barely grasped the window frame, even as her toes were on their very tips. All that she could see were the rafters¹ on the roof, the steam from the kettle, mother's handiwork patch, and the old kitchen stove pipe. She could smell the molasses pie through the wall.
"I think mama made a joke," answered Olivia, who also propped her nosy eyes by the window.
"Probably." A boy suddenly said, popping out from the nearby bush with leaves in his black hair; the 4th son, Fionn. He walked out of the shrub and dusted himself off, picking small branches out of his head. "Pa always laughs at Ma's jokes."
The 3 children nodded simultaneously, all agreeing with that statement, and the girls moved over so that Fionn could their view of the kitchen. Though, being similar in height, it was a rather futile effort for the boy too.
The children continued to whisper under the window.
"Oh, don't you smell that molasses pie?"
"I do Olivia... I love mama's molasses pie."
"I think Pa's cutting vegetables for some soup too."
"How could you tell brother? I can't see anything from here."
"It's because I'm taller than you Addie."
"Not by too much." Ainsley looked up at her brother with a heavy grin, failing to notice that her mother now sat alone.
A sound of crunching straw appeared behind them.
As the children turned their heads around, the wind swirled harshly on the ground. Promptly, the girl's skirts and hair flew into a fury with the small, opaque tornado in front of them. But as violent as it came, it dissipated without a noise.
A familiar man formed from the remnants, who wore a pink apron, greeting them with a serene, good-humored smile. He still held the knife in his hands.
"Now, being nosy isn't very nice for little girls and boys."
Olivia smiled meekly, gripping the edge of her lace dress and tidied back her brown hair. Ainsley swayed her legs, feeling as if she was in trouble again... Fionn simply looked straight back at father with undaunted eyes, his hands in his trouser pockets.
Hardwin crouched down to meet them at eye-level. "But I know you didn't want to disturb mother and I, even though you must've been hungry."
Ainsley especially gave an expression of accord, rapidly shaking her head as to convince father of her innocence.
He invited them to come through the door, and they all dashed into the warm, kitchen where the scent of buttered spice engulfed them away from the cold of night. And there, surrounded by oak cabinets and the hissing kettle, the 3 children ate their precious molasses pie and soup.
The cows and horses stood snuggly in their stalls with fresh straw and oats, while the wind outside swished and rumbled as it always did.
But as the families dined that night, a pair of blood-stricken eyes watched them.
¹. Poles that go across a wooden cabin's roof.