Embroidery and nerves

“Piles of red and green“, Morana sighed. “Just piles of red and green, what is a woman to do?”

The tablecloth was overdue and Himself was complaining of the lack of something crafted by her hand in the dining room. Not that Himself would ever deign to attempt such a feat himself. Hadn’t he just been in two minutes ago complaining and carrying on over bloody golf sticks and how Duke Marfa Harvey just bought his way to winning. Although, Morana was pretty sure Himself did not know enough Aramic to know his parents had been taking the piss when naming him.

But, Himself had done no better in the name game, Sir Cyril Stewart not at all a benefit to how Himself carried on. But she had nothing else to occupy her time except to sit in this dismally outfitted room, on this godforsaken chair and do needlework in this rather pointless tablecloth. If only Himself could spend some of that gold around the house instead of hitting little balls pointlessly all over the estate.

Morana sighed again and let her mind drift. Her figure may not quite be what it was when she married, with such high hopes, all those years ago (only 3 to be precise Dear Reader) but at least she was not as portly as Himself was getting. These days the only sex was non-facing and she wasn’t sure but she thought he had called her by his favourite mare’s name just last night. Well Mother would be right totally then, if that was the case.

As she drew the needle through the fabric and quietly stabbed it again, her mind drifted to the banned piece of literature that one of the servants had brought in. Mr. Gallichan had been quite vocal on how needlework just led to nerves. If Himself knew what she was reading he would become apoplectic to say the least. Of course, he would agree with Mr. Gallichan and as such would find ways to manage her.

Morana smiled slowly, thinking that her mother had named her well and when taking on Himself’s surname, she simply became death’s steward. And didn’t that suit her very well? Her needlework tablecloth, so innocent looking with its red roses and greenery against white would look even better once stained with the rusty brown of dried blood. If she managed it just so, the tie dye effect would do her rather bland design much justice.

Introspection and nerves could lead to rather interesting paths if Mr. Gallichan gave it enough time. Morana continued to stab at the tablecloth, knowing that once it was completed Himself was in for a little surprise.

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This was written after finding this treasure on reddit. I have also shared a screenshot for those not on reddit. It requires more twist, but for today I am happy with my little foray.

Names, origin and meaning
Morana – Slavic – Death
Marfa – Aramic – Lady
Harvey – English – battle worthy
Stewart – English – steward.