Work Text:
Soft fire crackling, warm light cast by the fireplace, just enough for Amber to see what she was doing. She dipped the needle into the fabric, one, two, three times, then pulled the thread through to be taught, massaging the ridges out of it and starting again. The chair she sat in, an old rosewood chair made by her father, creaked as she sat back. The cushion sewn by her mother kept her back and bottom from getting sore as she worked. This chair was made specifically for mending.
The door to their cabin opened, the cold winter wind following Eula in as she dropped her hunting gear by the door. She shut the door behind her before starting to take off her boots and coat.
“You’re just in time,” Amber said, turning to smile at her. “I was just about to start dinner.”
“I didn’t find anything good,” Eula said. She stood from where she’d sat on their couch to take off her boots, walking over to kiss Amber’s head. “I’m sure whatever you make will taste better though.”
“Fresh veggies always taste better than greasy meat,” Amber said, sticking her tongue out.
Eula chuckled. “I suppose.”
Amber set down the garment she had been mending, moving the chair out of the way of the fire so that Eula could sit and warm up. She walked to the kitchen, putting on an apron and washing her hands.
Their home, which wasn’t this cabin, did not feel like this on the average. Their home was in the city of Mondstadt, up in the hills near the castle, not five doors away from Eula’s childhood home. The Lawrence family had owned that house for as long as the city of Mondstadt had been there.
Amber frowned to herself as she sliced bread. “Eula’s childhood home” wasn’t a proper description. She did not spend her childhood there. She spent it being forced out of it in any way possible. She had been born after her father, a man who’s name Amber had never committed to memory, met a woman from outside Mondstadt and fell in love.
She was from somewhere mysterious, which she never told her husband about, but she couldn’t hide her icy blue hair. But her origin didn’t matter to him. The only thing he cared about was that their child, against the odds of the current understanding of inherited attributes, was born with the same icy blue hair. Suddenly, Eula’s father realized his mistake. He had had a child with someone not of noble blood. He had had a child that needed to be hidden.
However, Amber thought with a smile, dropping chopped vegetables into a pot of boiling water, Eula was not the type of child easily hidden. She was not the type of child to allow such a thing to happen to her. From the moment she knew what was happening, Eula was loud about who her father was. She proudly proclaimed herself a member of the Lawrence family.
Her family’s caustic reaction toward her was made worse when Eula met and fell for Amber. When they were married, their union blessed by the Royal Family themselves, the Lawrence family stewed silently in their distain. And either in an attempt to make amends with the Lawrence family or in yet another act of defiance toward their views, the Royal Family graciously accepted Eula’s bid to join the Knights of Favonius. Her name could not be refused, truthfully.
The final straw was when Amber officially changed her last name to Lawrence. In tradition, the spouse of a noble is supposed to present the family with a proposal. You are supposed to ask both parents, present them with your assets, and make the effort to explain why you would be a good partner for their child. Eula cared for none of that. She said that Amber was her wife, therefore she was a Lawrence. So, Amber changed her name.
They no longer got the courteous letter wishing them good health. They no longer got answers, usually polite declines, to their invitations they sent to the family. They did, however, continue to get polite invitations from the castle to things like galas or the yearly Derby. Well, they hadn’t gotten a Derby invitation since the Princess was attacked. The Royal Family hadn’t held one since then. Much had changed since the Princess was attacked.
Amber dipped her ladle into the broth, filling two bowls with soup and then sticking the end of a large slice of bread in each bowl. She picked those up and moved them to their small cabin’s table.
“Food’s done!” she called to the living room. “Let me get cleaned up.”
Eula didn’t respond, and Amber saw that she was sleeping in the chair by the fire. Her head was propped on her arm, exhausted. Before Amber went to change and wash up, she leaned over to press a kiss to her forehead. Eula worked so hard in every way, and thankfully Amber was able to get her to learn to relax completely before she wound herself up so tight that she snapped. Not that she would’ve snapped. Perhaps just hardened so completely into a block of ice unable to be melted by love. Amber did her best to warm her every single day.