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driftward · 2 years

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Title: Ineligible Debutante - Chapter 1 Characters: Zoissette Vauban, Father Vauban, Lavender, Rose, Father Vocon Rating: Teen Summary: Zoissette settles into farm life, despite the best efforts of those around her. Notes: None

Zoissette was really not at all quite certain what, exactly, she was supposed to do on the farm.

Oh, she knew the highlights, to be certain. She was to supervise the farm hands in growing crops and raising chocobos, which was interesting to her, because they had gotten on just fine without her for, well, her entire life, and she did not know what she could possibly add to the endeavor now.

She would want to engage and further her studies out here as she was able, of course. While she may have had a disastrous history with applications sent to the Observatorium, her application to the Arcanist's Guild in Limsa had been significantly more promising. While her duties to Ishgard prevented her from traveling, she hoped to write to them, and that they would find time to write to her back. It would not be as good as actual instruction in person, but she would make do. And in the meanwhile, she was now convinced that her work in arcanistry only improved her work in astrology. All she would have to do is make time.

Time she would have to be careful with. While the farm may have gotten along just fine without her until now, it was true that there was more work with the influx of chocobos they had recently received. In addition, even though she was here in the Western Highlands, and they were back in Ishgard, she knew the twins would be frequent lodgers, and it would be her duty to look after them absent her mother and father.

And on the subject of her parents, her father was rather insistent that an important part of her work would be making connections in nearby Riversmeet and Falcon's Nest. She had assumed that meant assuring would-be buyers of the bird's pedigree and training, but he had given little guidance in such, and instead insisted that she make herself known and presentable.

Which was all fine, in the abstract, but rather lacking in the specifics.

Which is why she had been quick to unpack when she had arrived. And why she had gotten up rather early the next day and headed out immediately, bringing her notebooks with her. She walked around and spoke with many of the farmhands and servants around the farm, learning names and entertaining their bemused expressions with curious questions. She made certain to be warm and polite as she did so. She was certain that they would not be very interested in having another burden underfoot, but it was important that she learn quickly, in order to make herself useful.

It was some time, nearly two bells before the high sun, before her father determined where she had gone. He found her by a fence, taking careful and detailed notes on the chocobos that she could see, while one of the birdkeepers stood nearby and answered her questions. She heard him coming, hearing his labored breathing and quick steps, but she only spared him a glance as she approached.

"Hello, father," she said, continuing to write in her notebook. Part of her idly wondered why he had elected to come out to the fields in his clergyman's outfit. Better suited to sermon than to weather, she thought.

"Zoissette," he said, leaning against the fence, breathing heavily. "Darling daughter of mine. I have been looking for you all morning."

Zoissette doubted that.

"I have been tending to my duties, father," she said, sparing her attention between her most recent set of notes and the chocobo she had been writing about. The birdkeeper, for her part, smiled between the two.

"Best let you get to it," the birdkeeper said. "If you have more questions, mistress, you know where to find me."

"Of course. Thank you, Tawnelle," said Zoissette, giving her a curtsy which was returned with a bow before the woman headed off into the field, making gentle noises at the chocobos as she approached them.

Her father watched the exchange, a frown on his face indicating that he was perhaps perplexed as he recovered his breath and stood up straight once more.

"Your duties?" he asked.

"Yes. I am here to lend the Vauban name to the good breeding and care of these chocobos, am I not? I must simply learn how to care and feed for them, as well as make notes of their condition and raising, so that perspective buyers may be assured as to the quality care and attention that our birds receive," said Zoissette, finishing up her notes and tucking her notebook away.

Her father was often perplexed, after all, and he would need her entire attention to correct that.

He looked at her, dumbfounded, and blinked a few times at her. "Well... yes, of course," he said, cautiously. "But as we spoke of often on our way here, dearest, why, even before we left, what is of greatest import is the connections you may form while here.

"Riversmeet is not so far, and there are no few good military nobles of fine standing there. To say nothing of the surrounding homesteads! And of course, of course, Falcon's Nest claims to host a ball room now and no few manors, and even Hemlock has a family of standing or two. I would think you would be busying yourself to prepare for hosting. Mayhap even to be so bold as to make ready to present yourself to another family or two. Get to know them. Maybe even, ah, you know..."

He wrung his hands together, nervous about something or another. Zoissette reached out, and took his hands in hers, patting them. Her mother had often said that her father had a nervous disposition, and she would soothe it as best as she could.

"Oh, please, father. Of course I shall heed your advice and make myself known soon enough. But none of that will matter, I do not think, if we do not heed the essentials first. The care of the chocobos. And to do that, I rather think I need to know how things work around here, and put myself to use as soon as possible. After all, we both know mother would mislike it if I made a nuisance of myself rather than being useful, do you not agree?" she said. And as she spoke, she made sure to give her father her best reassuring smile.

"Ah... yes, of course, I suppose you are right," he said, looking at her for a moment before turning his head and coughing. "Well, anyroad, the morning is a waste now, but come, you simply must return to the house and make ready. The two handmaidens that are to attend you have been waiting, dearest, and there is much to be done."

He took one of her hands gently, and tugged, as he turned and began to head back towards the house. When she did not follow immediately, he stopped, and waited. She frowned at him, but after a moment, she trotted up beside him, and they both began to head back.

"The house is in good order, of course, I checked that before I left for the fields," she said. "Surely the scullery and other housekeeping chores will wait until after supper."

"Ah, no, dearest daughter, the handmaidens will be seeing to that sort of thing from now on. No, no, for now, we must get you fitted. I have arranged for a visitor, and he shall arrive in three day's time, a man of good standing and reputation. You will need to be presentable, and ready to host when he arrives. He shall, of course, help you with introductions around the valley, so you would do well to be ready to impress him," he said.

Zoissette looked back over her shoulder at the chocobos as they made their way into the house. "What of the farm?" she asked, plaintively.

"It will still be here," her father said, as he corralled her into the main area of the house. "Now, stand up straight and wait here, there's a good girl."

She did as she was told, and watched as he vanished behind one of the doors.

She was certain this was not how things were supposed to go, or at least, not how she had imagined them going. She looked down at herself, in her sensible shepherd's slops and simple tunic, and wondered idly to herself. Handmaidens? Her mother had a few to tend to her for the few times that she deigned to leave the front to attend to some matter or another amongst Ishgard high society, but Zoissette had been long expected to look after herself, and thought she had done rather a fine job of doing so.

Her father returned with two women. One was a Hyur, short, pale in complexion, small and frail looking, with long red hair done up in a bun and wearing an extremely conservative cloth dress. The other was an Elezen, with dark gray skin, short black hair, a strong build that told of many days in the fields, a tunic and trousers, and the fanciest markings of a pale green on her face.

"Oh!" said Zoissette. "You must be from the Twelveswood."

The Elezen just smiled, and her father was quick to step forward.

"Ah, yes, well, she has worked here for many years without trouble," he said quickly. "Allow me to introduce you to Rose," and here the Hyur gave a curtsy, "and Lavender," and at that, the Elezen held a hand gently to her chest and bowed. "They will be attending to your many needs while you are here, helping you tend to guests, and, ah... well. They know what is expected of you! I should leave them, and you, to it. Ladies, if you please, I shall be stepping out."

Zoissette looked him bewildered as he quickly left. Once he was gone, she looked back and forth between Rose and Lavender.

"Ah, hah hah," she said, grinning nervously at the both of them. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance? Acquaintances?"

Rose smiled thinly at her as she drew near, hands reaching out to begin to push and spin her around, and Zoissette was not certain what to do other than to go along with it. "Yes yes pleasure is all ours. Now let's see what we're working with here, that's a good dear. I went looking for your wardrobe, dear, but I could only find the one dress."

"That is because I did not think to bring any more than that," said Zoissette, bewildered. "I am supposed to be working the farm."

Rose and Lavender exchanged a look, and Rose took a step back, put her hands on her hips, and shook her head.

"No, no, that will not do. Lavender, may I make use of that green dress of yours? We simply must have a decent base to work with, and quickly, and you are much closer to being the right shape than I am."

"Of course, Rose," said Lavender. As Rose sped out of the room, Lavender extended a hand to Zoissette, reaching for her, but not quite touching her. "May I?" she asked.

"Uhm. Sure. Yes. I mean, may you what, but yes?" said Zoissette.

Lavender just laughed lightly. "I wish to take your measures, my lady," she said, as she produced a line tape from a pocket, and began to do exactly that. "And you are correct. I am from the Twelveswood. I keep my ivies, as a reminder of what I left behind. Rose may not approve, but none else have seen fit to put up a fuss on the matter."

"Well, I think they are very nice," said Zoissette politely. And they were, she thought. They framed Lavender's face in a pleasing manner. "I remember seeing similar in one of the histories of Gridania available at the library, and thought I recognized them. Uhm. Miss Lavender?"

"Yes, my lady?"

"What is going on."

"Well, my lady," said Lavender. "Rose and I are to prepare you for making appearances before the very many eligibles of the valley as they see fit to appear, I suppose. We shall serve as your handmaidens, chaperones, and instructors, as need be."

Zoissette stood still so that Lavender could continue to make her measurements, and resisted the urge to turn and look incredulous. As it was, she was certain she was giving the wall she was facing quite the look.

"Father said I am to make connections out here. I was certain he meant for the purposes of market for the chocobos," said Zoissette.

"And what stronger connection than that between your noble houses?" said Lavender.

"Well, I rather wish he had said that instead," said Zoissette. She was beginning to feel grumpy. She had come out here to help her family out, not to gallivant around and play at being a future house wife.

Or was she? She considered the ramifications. She could do both, she supposed. The farm still had had an increase in stock, but without nearly so much an increase in people running it, as far as she could tell. She could stick to the business of farm and animal husbandry, and make time for, well, other pursuits.

And House Vauban was solvent, but only just so. Marrying into another house would relieve pressure on her parents, and perhaps improve their fortunes.

She sighed, resigned, as Rose bustled back in, her arms full of cloths.

"Lady Zoissette?" asked Lavender, looking up at the sigh.

"Nothing," said Zoissette. "So, what do I need to do?"

The two handmaidens exchanged another look.

-*-

The next day or so moved quickly. One of the farm hands had taught her a trick, which was to leave the curtains open on a window facing the sun. There was little work that could be done before sunup, but once the sky was lit, the work could begin, and leaving the curtains drawn could ensure a bright light in one's face first thing in the morning. In this way she was up early, and made her way around the farm quickly, attempting to learn and get done what she could before her father awoke.

Once he was awake, however, her day took on a different tenor. Rose and Lavender fussed over her, combing her hair, commenting on her clothing, taking measurements, bathing her, having her test various scents, and tending to many other so-called 'pleasantries' she was inclined to find less than useless, but which she acquiesced to anyroad, as gracefully as she could manage. They had a short timeline, but Halone bless them both, they worked diligently and quickly, even if she found out that they were prone to slight bouts of bickering with one another.

On the day the visitor was to arrive, all was in order. She had snuck out early to tend to the chocobos, before coming back in time to help with cooking the sweets and sundries that would be needed for hosting, setting the kettle to boil, and being helped into Lavender's dress. The work may have been hurried, but Zoissette had to admit, she found the end result pleasing.

Just before the time came, she looked herself over in the vanity. Her hair was smoother and neater than it had been in recent memory, having been combed out as best as they were able. It would require moons to be repaired properly, according to Lavender, but Rose had had some sort of tonic that had helped smooth it out and make it shiny. And Lavender's dress had been modified accordingly. It was a pleasant shade of forest green that Zoissette thought matched herself nicely. She had made sure to thank Lavender profusely, of course, but the woman had simply smiled and patted her on the shoulder in response.

The settings were set, the places were ready, and the young woman was made up. Her father greeted their guest out in the receiving room, while Zoissette and Rose put the finishing touches on the platters she would be serving for the afternoon, and Lavender tended the chores. Both handmaidens smiled at her encouragingly, Rose slipping a rosary into a pocket with a whispered prayer to Halone, and Lavender asking before touching Zoissette's forehead and murmuring a quiet something of her own.

She could not possibly be better prepared, as she swept out into the room, setting a kettle in the center of the table between her father and his guest, and beginning to parcel out plates, utensils, and foodstuffs.

"Ah, my dearest daughter!" said her father. "Zoissette, allow me to introduce Father Vocon. He is a priest that serves up at Falcon's Nest, and is tending to the needs of the people near here. He shall provide you with introductions to members in good standing with Halone."

Zoissette curtsied. "How do you do," she said politely.

Father Vocon, for his part, looked her up and down very carefully before turning back to her father. "This is her, then?" he said. "Seems a bit... boyish."

A common complaint about her looks back in Ishgard as well, and Zoissette had rather hoped to leave it behind here. She felt herself go cold.

"I am of eighteen summers, sir," she said.

"Ah. Yes. Of course," said Father Vocon. "I meant no disrespect, and I see you are reaching your height rather quickly, aren't you? It's just, that, well, we've had recent trouble of that sort, and I would not care to repeat it."

Her father frowned and shook his head. "That was regarding a rather older man, I thought? Surely we shall see no problems of that sort. You said that you knew of peers her age here, who had not yet been sent for war or who held other purposes for Ishgard. I would not see her yet before a senior if she does not wish to pursue such herself."

She found herself wishing he had asked her opinion on the matter at all, but she was glad that there was at least some small thought to considering what she might want.

Zoissette resumed her duties, tending once more to the two men, beginning to pour tea for each of them, Father Vocon's words sitting in her gut. The matter of the other man they were alluding to was of concern, and she might look into it later. More immediate was his comment on her appearance. Insults in Ishgard had started with the word 'tomboy', and had since expanded into 'mannish', and she had hoped to not repeat them here. She kept her hair short, true, but that was a purely practical decision. Unfortunately, though, it also seemed that other aspects of herself did not lend themselves well yet to the air she wanted to project. She rather wished she would finish growing, and be like her mother. Tall and regal, elegant, and yet still composed of an unquestionable power despite all that.

Instead she was awkward, limbs too long, mouth too small, and whatever else was going wrong with her body at this age.

"Do not worry on that account, old friend," said Father Vocon. "Please, stay and sit for spell, Lady Zoissette. I wish only to ask you a few questions, and we shall see what we can arrange for you."

Zoissette sat down stiffly, foregoing preparing herself a plate, but pouring herself a generous cup of tea.

-*-

The meeting went fast enough after that, and other than his singular insult, Father Vocon had seen amicable enough. The questions had covered a wide range of topics, from her education, to her standing with Halone, to her activities. He had seemed to disapprove of the knight's training she had received thus far, and had frowned at hearing of her work in arcanistry. Her work on astrology had seemed more to his liking, and he had highly approved of the time she had spent tending to her twin brothers as they had grown up. At last, some hours later, satisfied that she was indeed a good Halonic woman and a reasonable match for the local area, he had said his goodbyes, and been on his way.

"Well!" her father had said when he had gone, clasping his hands and rubbing his palms together while smiling at her. "A rather successful interview. I think he was impressed by you, dearest, and of course he would be, of course he would be, you have ever been such a dutiful daughter. I will stay the week, but I think you can manage it from here. Rose and Lavender shall guide you in everything you need to know, but do keep me informed, will you?" he had said.

Zoissette did not share his enthusiasm, nor his outlook, but she smiled and curtsied all the same.

"Of course," she said.

The next day she rose with the sun, and went out to the fields. Her parents clearly had a plan for her, and she would live up to it as best as she could. But it would behoove her to have her own plan, she decided, one that aligned rather better with her strengths.

And so she got to work.

-*-

It might have been work, in fact, that led to early disaster.

She had taken to the farm rather well, she thought. When Rose, and to a lesser amount, Lavender, were not attempting to teach her the ways and rules of being a lady in proper society, she found herself outside, helping tend to crops and herd chocobos. She found she liked the work. It kept her moving, and while it was different than the kind of work she did training as a knight, it was still very physical. She spent days traversing many malms, and found the chocobos fond of avoiding their keepers by going up the backs of mountains. It was not long before she learned to climb after them, and she found she enjoyed the exercise.

It had been a few sennights before her first gentlemen caller was due to come by, and she had prepared the night before with clothing set out and accessories suitable to a lady set aside. However, upon waking, one of the farmhands had come to her, concerned that one of the chocobos well known for being more obstinate than the rest had made itself scarce.

Zoissette considered her options, and decided that she could find the chocobo and still be back in time to fulfill her social obligations. And so she headed out, traveling past river and over dale, ultimately spotting the bird on top of one of the taller and steeper cliffs in the area.

It spotted her in turn, and flapped its wings and strutted about, preening and craning its neck, showing off its superiority over any Elezen who dared to come after it.

Zoissette frowned, and put her hands on her hips, and resolved then and there that she was not about to lose a contest of wills against a bird.

It was many bells before she returned to the farm, tired and weary but triumphant, and the bird proud as could be over the merry chase it had given her. Still, though, the chocobo was gracious in defeat, preening and kweh'ing merrily at Zoissette as they went along. That the victory had been hard won probably had something to do with it. The carrots she had brought along to mollify it probably also had an impact, and all in all, Zoissette was actually not quite certain she had won, but the bird was back, and so was she, and all was well.

Except for the gentlemen caller who Rose and Lavender had gamely attempted to keep occupied for near a quarter of the day.

Apologies were made and gruffly accepted, and the two made plans to try again, perhaps on another day.

-*-

Another day came, and this time, Zoissette was prepared. The chocobos had been secured the night before, and though the morning was for the farm, the afternoon was for herself, and the farmhands and other workers were made aware of her impending unavailability. Rose and Lavender made sure to keep her schedule clear, and as the time approached, Zoissette was ready this time to receive her caller.

Which meant she was mostly unoccupied when the carriage that was to bring her bookshelves and their contents finally arrived, having taken a detour to pick up a few requests she had made from the Falcon's Nest library.

So when her caller for the day showed up, he was very rudely surprised to find the house a whirlwind of activity, as Rose and Lavender and Zoissette were busying themselves with the new arrivals.

"Oh!" said Zoissette, spotting him as she ran by the front door on her way to help direct the retrieval of another batch of books. "What excellent timing you have!" she said, grabbing his hand and dragging him over. "Look at what just arrived! These bookshelves are new, you know, the very latest design from the Scholasticate, brought up to date with learnings from Sharlayan on book organization. Look, at the shelf ends, you can see the frames where you can put a sheet of paper that details the contents of the shelves. And adjustable nameplates on each individual shelf, as many as you please! Ah! Here, follow me!" she said, pulling him over to show him something else, "My requests for the latest from the Holy See for guidance for next year's crops! And some manuscripts on chocobo handling! Oh, and they even found the astrologian texts I had asked after!"

She very excitedly began to tell him of all of her books, and how the new organization scheme would be a boon, and he begrudgingly pitched in to help with the hard work of bringing the books and their shelves in. She made sure to try to impress him as he did so. Rose had said that a man appreciated a good meal, and Lavender said that a good man would appreciate an intelligent woman, so she made sure he was well fed for his labor and as they worked and ate, she told him all of what she planned to study for the next sennight. And would it not be nice, she tried to tell him, that he now knew someone who practically had an entire library that he could visit?

Tired, he begged off at the end of the day, and suggested that this call was not quite what he had expected. However, he did begrudgingly agree that they could make one last attempt, and Zoissette overall felt very positive about how the day had went, looking forward to his return.

-*-

Third time, she was sure, would be the charm.

She was tempted to clear her entire day's schedule of everything except for the part of playing hostess and tending to her guest, but she had gotten used to the routine of working around the farm, and anyroad, did not feel comfortable with the idea that she might not be pulling her weight. So she prepared her day carefully, planning as always, and was certain she would have time to tend to both of her duties.

An unexpected rain storm, unfortunately, delayed her plans, and mucking out the chocobo pen took longer than normal. So, as she rushed inside, she thought to skip a few steps in changing from her farm clothes to her outing dress. Skipping her shower was out of the question, but boots and clothing could be dumped unceremoniously on the inner porch, where they would be safe from the elements and able to be tended to later. Not washing her hair was also out of the question, but the perfuming step that Rose so often insisted on could be safely ignored.

And so it was that she made it to the inner porch just in time to meet her would-be suitor, with Rose trailing quickly behind. She smiled and curtseyed as she greeted him, even as she was aware of the rather pained expression on his face, and the hand he quickly held to his nose. She looped her arm in his, and was quick to lead him away, and out to the waiting carriage.

The rest of the evening did not go any better, as they travelled out to Falcon's Nest for dinner and then back. The entire time he only gave short, clipped answers to her questions, and when she looked at him, he often had an expression of mild disgust on his face.

"This is simply not going to work out," he said on their way back.

Zoissette was feeling rather the same way, but she gamely put on a placid smile, as he continued.

"These past sennights have been nothing but confusing. First you are late, and then you subject to me a day's labor all the while prattling on about Halone-knows-what, and now this latest. This entire evening you have - well, I shall be blunt. Your smell is off-putting, and no matter how often I step away or try to get away from it, it -lingers-. I do not know what Father Vocon saw in you, but I will be glad to be away."

"Ah," said Zoissette.

"Ah," he said. "Good night and good riddance."

He rode off, grumpy, and Zoissette could not bring herself to feel overly crestfallen on the matter, though she did lean her head down to sniff herself curiously. Rose coughed into a hand as Lavender met them on the porch, and Zoissette remained silent as Rose explained the evening's happenings to the other handmaiden. Once she was done, Lavender looked meaningfully to Zoissette's boots, still sitting on the porch.

"Well," said Lavender, cautiously. Zoissette sighed, and shrugged at her.

"Do not spare my feelings on my account," said Zoissette. "I have already ruined the... the... well. The opportunity, I suppose. If you have advice, I may as well learn from it."

"Well, it would seem you have already grown used to the aroma of the farm," said Lavender. "Rose, remind me what business our bachelor's family deals in?"

"Timber, dear," said Rose.

"Ah," said Lavender. "And so he has not grown accustomed to it as you have, my lady."

"There are -reasons- we make you as clean as possible before sending you out, dear," lamented Rose.

"Just so," said Lavender. "We make sure the soileds are away and you are well washed, and the perfumes are in case we miss something and it is not enough. For as you have just learned tonight, particular... essences, shall we say, of the farm have a tendency to linger in one's nostrils, even when not present. Such as, say, what you may have acquired on your boots out in the chocobo stables. The selfsame boots that you left on the porch for him to encounter."

"...oh," said Zoissette, suddenly feeling extremely foolish. "...oh, and he had to deal with it all evening," she groaned.

Rose reached out a hand and patted Zoissette on the arm encouragingly.

"Well, as you say, dear, lesson learned. Perhaps the good Father will find another eligible hand for yours, and we shall do rather better next time, shan't we?"

Zoissette sighed, letting her shoulders slump, but then nodded and stood up straight. Back straight, head up. A good knight faced their failures. A better one learned from them, and the best one would set them right.

"Yes. I shall send him my apologies, and a gift besides," said Zoissette. "And better apply myself to this business for the next time, if I am granted one."

"That's the spirit, dear," said Rose encouragingly. Lavender just crossed her arms and tilted her head at Zoissette thoughtfully.

-*-

Zoissette liked to think of herself as, while not necessarily smart, at least observant, diligent, able to learn from her mistakes, and capable of self improvement. So in the moons it took for Father Vocon to find another caller who would be willing to travel out to the Vauban homestead to be entertained, she had carefully replayed the events of the prior events, to be certain to not repeat them.

The next time a gentleman caller was arranged to arrive, she was very careful with her schedule. The farmhands who had grown used to her were more than willing to pick up her tasks for the day and help out. Her handmaidens were set to task, and they tended to the needs of the home. The only wrinkle in the plan was that the twins would be her responsibility at the same time, but they were both teenagers, not children, and she was certain they would behave. She sent a letter to explain the situation to her would-be suitor, and sat down and had a talk with both of the twins. Jonys was all too eager to be helpful to his bigger sister, and Jaux, while less enthusiastic, decided he would make use of the time studying Halonic texts, and more importantly, more or less staying out of the way.

All bases covered, she was ready to receive her gentleman caller.

The day passed most pleasantly. He was from another farmstead, and they decided to spend the day together, exchanging tips on how to take care of chocobos, how to handle crop storage, and sharing stories of the hopes that each of their families held. Zoissette shared her father's ideal of raising good military birds, and he shared his family's quest to expand their crop yields. He was able to share with her some research from the Holy See, and she gave him tips that she had found on chocobo coloration while delving through her library. As the day passed, the twins were little trouble, for which Zoissette was grateful. She showed him the chocobos, and both twins came out and demonstrated their nascent riding skills. And indeed, afterwards, Jonys even helped with making and cleaning up supper, and Jaux and her new friend - and she was certain he would work out better than the last one - discussed Halonic doctrine over the evening meal.

The day had been pleasant, and the evening had perhaps even been more so. He was not unattractive, with a pleasant farmer's build and tousled brown hair, and where the first would-be potential had been gruff and taciturn, he was soft spoken and warm.

"I like your brothers," he said. "You mentioned you helped raise them?"

"Well, I mean, myself and the house maids," said Zoissette honestly. "Mother is often away at the front, and father has his congregation to tend to, so many matters of house and home fell to me. I mostly made sure to keep them out of trouble and made sure they were looked after."

He nodded. "I think you would make a fine mother some day."

Zoissette felt her mouth screw up, and she held her hand in front of her face so as to help hide her expression as she burst into laughter.

"Oh, no, I think not," she said, trying to get words out between laughs. "I, well, you must understand, I, uhm, I had my hands quite full, with these two already, and, well, I would hate to turn into my mother, all stern looks and cold temper and - well, just no."

That was apparently the wrong thing to say.

-*-

Zoissette sat in the dining area, leaning far back in her chair and staring at the ceiling as Rose and Lavender attended to her.

"Well," said Lavender. "At least you two learned that about one another early."

"I wish I would have known rather sooner myself, dear," said Rose. "Though I cannot imagine for the life of me why you would not wish to be a mother. Why, the only higher calling is to attend to Halone's shield."

"I would infinitely prefer such," said Zoissette. "However, mother has opinions on that. Why, I cannot say, being as she herself serves."

"Perhaps she wishes to spare you a life of bloodshed and loss, dear," said Rose, patting her hand. "Fighting dragons is necessary but dreadful business."

"Though if you do not wish to be a mother, it may be rather more difficult to find you a suitable suitor," mused Lavender. "The political power of your house is not such to compel a joining by itself, and most families are going to want to grow. That is to say, mothers will be wanting grandchildren for their sons."

Zoissette waved a hand in the air. "Or an inheritance of good land without having to worry about fighting over who gets what. This can be made to work, I am certain, we just... we just need to tell Father Vocon."

A conversation she was not strongly looking forward to just at the moment.

"Ah, well, dear, about that..." said Rose, and Zoissette lifted her head to look at her. Lavender crossed her arms and watched her carefully.

"What did you do, Rose?" asked Lavender evenly.

"Well, considering the troubles the mistress had with her first caller... I took the liberty of informing Father Vocon that he might do well, to, ah, you know, have a few ready options," said Rose, as she nervously played a rosary between her fingers.

Zoissette sat up, alarmed.

"I - uhm - is that even proper?" she asked.

"Nothing wrong with hedging our bets," said Rose. "And you have been doing, begging your pardon, dear, but you have been doing oh so very poorly, I thought to improve your odds some. And Father Vocon happens to agree, if a bit reluctantly."

Lavender laughed, and shook her head. "And without so much as to ask for a by her leave first, Rose? You have so little faith in our charge."

Rose huffed, sticking her nose in the air in Lavender's direction.

"Well, at least someone around here is seeing after her fortune! What is good for the mistress will be good for all of us, you know, and look at her. We simply must do what we can for the poor thing."

"That poor thing may be a young woman in our charge, but we are not her masters, Rose," said Lavender.

Zoissette sat up, and made soothing hand gestures at both of them. "Please, please, it is ... it is quite alright. While yes, I would like to be part of the planning process for my life in the future, Rose, this time, it is fine. You are... you are right. I do need the help. Though thank you, Lavender, for ... standing by my side as you do."

Lavender just touched a hand gently to her chest and gave a short bow, while Rose nodded, and stuck a finger in the air, triumphant.

"Of course! I know what's best, dear, just leave me to it," she said. "I will speak to Father Vocon on your behalf, I am certain he already has someone in mind, and we will make sure you're best prepared."

"As you say," said Zoissette.

-*-

It took rather longer for the next suitor to be arranged than Rose had promised, but Zoissette was alright with that. In the meanwhile, the farm still needed tended to, as well as things she was expected to learn. Mornings were spent with Lavender, who began take to the fields alongside her, and afternoons with Rose, learning textiles and cooking, and evenings for any other duties that needed to be performed before bed.

She found she preferred the mornings. Lavender had been slow to open up, much slower than Rose, but once she did so, Zoissette found her to be a wealth of knowledge, of a sort. Lavender had an intuition that she was willing to share, and though Zoissette often did not understand it fully, she eventually found herself able to connect ideas that Lavender had about how things worked with documentation and other sources available in the library. And Lavender humored her and her many questions, so it worked out.

One particular conversation led her to go back to the conversations she had had with the second suitor, about crop rotations and expanding yields. She compared what he had said with Lavender's commentary about how different plants had different aetheric balances. Peppers, for example, were fire aspected, while gysahl greens were surprisingly a mix of earth and air. Melons and squashes tended towards water, fruits tended towards ice, and interestingly, many weeds had aspects of levin.

Armed with this information, and with what the second suitor had hinted at, as well as a letter of inquiry responded to from one of the monasteries, and she had a plan in place. One field was set aside to run an experiment in planting a field specifically to have an aetheric balance, not only in between the plants, but also against the local weather conditions for the season.

This work did not take place all at once, and preparing the field took time, and during that time, at last, Father Vocon found her another suitor to come calling. Pleased with how things were going on the farm and its prospects for the upcoming winter, Zoissette made sure to make her usual preparations to receive her guest. She had learned, she was certain, from her many mistakes, and would not screw this one up.

The day he was to arrive, one of the farmhands came into the house, looking nervous.

"Begging the lady's pardon," he asked. Rose was tending to her, making a few last adjustments to her dress.

"Of course," she replied. "Though it will need to be quick."

"Aye, the latest comes by today, I know, I just - am a little nervous about your plans for the spare field that I thought I'd ask after."

"Whatsoever is the problem?" she asked.

"Well, the growing the plants all mixed up like that, it's a mite bit... unorthodox. And I mean, might be formally unorthodox. Mightn't the Holy See feel this, ah, how you say... little change from what the good book prescribes, mightn't they feel it a touch heretical?"

"It is a grey area. I know many of our traditions are considered more holy canon than not, and few traditions are older than our method of growing crop. But this plan is not the result of reading too many foreign books, nor am I some far sighted genius. This is actually something some monks at the monastery have been testing off and on for a while, sanctioned by the Holy See. It is an attempt to bolster our forces with a more robust food supply. All I have done is read their research, and draw some conclusions, with Lavender's help. That is it. We are not into heresy territory, so much as being a little ahead of them, that is all."

Zoissette heard the door open and shut, but ignored it in favor of soothing the concerns of her farmhand, as he still looked skeptical.

"Lavender helped?" he asked. "I know you trust your handmaiden, and so do I, but she, well, she is not a proper Halonic woman of Ishgard. Some say she may even be a hedge witch."

Rose looked past them both, and then suddenly shot the man a glare. Zoissette watched as he stiffened, and smiled encouragingly at him.

"I promise you, she is no such thing. She is merely in tune with the land and its habits. As for the Holy See, if we demonstrate the ability to generate a bumper crop, I think they will be in a forgiving mood."

Rose was trying to get her attention, now, and was making a chopping gesture across her throat. Zoissette decided to finish the conversation quickly, and she let her expression sober.

"However, it is a good question. Just think of it this way. Our scripture tells us what we must do, but not all that we can do. Likewise, it tells us what we must not do, but not all that we should not do. And for crops, well... it tells us a way we might do."

The man looked skeptical. "Are you sure, Lady Zoissette?"

Rose was making more urgent gestures, now, and Zoissette frowned at her as she continued on.

"Absolutely. If I am right, that field should produce just under double what it can normally do in a year. If I am wrong, we still ought to just squeak by with our normal yield. Disappointing, to be sure, but probably not heretical. And if I am right, just think of it. You could adjust the crops for the seasons and grow at capacity nearly year round. Could even grow in the dead of winter. Could be a boon."

The man grunted. "Could be a bust."

"Could be a bust," agreed Zoissette.

"Well, not my place to question, anyroad. If you think we are not breaking orthodoxy, I believe you."

"Good man. Now get out there and plant some weeds," said Zoissette, grinning broadly once more.

"Wish you wouldn't put it that way," he said.

Zoissette just laughed as she turned, and spotted Lavender holding her face in her hand, next to the latest suitor, who was looking rather pale. Behind her, Rose just groaned.

"Heresy?" the man squeaked. And then he shot a look sideways at Lavender, staring at her face, and - well, if Zoissette had to guess, he was staring at her facial markings. "Hedge magick!?"

Zoissette pinched her nose, squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and sighed.

-*-

It was a minor miracle that she was able to soothe the concerns of the man, but he had decided nonetheless to take his leave, and that was that for some time. Winter was coming, and with it came many chores that needed to be done around the farm. Food needed to be preserved, the chocobos needed to be tended to and their lodgings made secure against the weather, and many other tasks aside. Zoissette found herself rather busy, making sure all was made ready. In addition, the twins arrived once more, and she had to make sure they were taken care of, and their education continued until they could return to their schooling at home. Travel throughout Coerthas would slow to a crawl during the cold season, and between everything, courting and courtship fell to the wayside.

When the winter grew quiet and there was snow on the ground, Zoissette busied herself with letters, asking for news, putting out feelers for those who might be in the market for chocobos come spring, and asking for books to be borrowed. The twins were, at long last, of an age to mostly look after themselves, for which she was grateful. Jaux preferred to spend his time studying Halonic texts, while Jonys was, as usual, bright and cheerful and eager to help around the farm, and even if he did have a tendency to get in the way, Zoissette was forgiving. Better that he would remember these days fondly, before responsibilities became burdens, she thought.

Winter passed into spring, the twins returned to Ishgard, warmth returned to Coerthas, the chocobos returned to the fields, the spring crops were planted, and Zoissette began to turn her mind to beginning the training regimen they would need. After all, the idea was she was supposed to be raising good military birds. They were well exercised, and so was she, and in fact she had changed much in her few seasons on the farm. She was taller now, and broader in the shoulder. While she had been strong for her age before, now she was rather obviously more muscular. She looked at herself in the vanity, and thought that maybe her mouth had finally caught up with the rest of her face. She smiled, and decided that maybe she did not look so bad after all. Her skin, already a pleasant brown, had been loved by the sun and darkened nicely the previous season, and stayed so through the winter.

She was ready for the new year.

Zoissette sent away for training equipment to be sent. She was not certain where to start with the chocobos, but she did have her knight's training to fall back on, and a few guidebooks aside, as well as experience from the more senior farmhands to see her through. Her requested training equipment came back barely a sennight later, along with a note from her father stating that he had spoken with Father Vocon, and now that spring was here, they were going to try to send one more gentleman caller her way.

"And please, my daughter," the letter from father had said. "I know you are very keen on the farm, and you have done such splendid work there, but I wish you would pay even half as much attention to those willing to take time out of their lives to visit."

She frowned. She had been trying, after all, she just was not very good at it, and had had very poor luck. But of course she was paying attention to her suitors. She had brought all of her acumen to bear, in fact, she thought.

She sighed, and marked the date on the shared calendar.

The sennight he was to show up, the training equipment turned up. Zoissette resolved to at least get the beginnings of that work out of the way, before he was due to show up, so that she could keep herself free on that day, and her mind focused only on the matter of being a good hostess when he did.

And so she was out in the chocobo pens. Zoissette dressed out, slowly, following each step as she remembered it with great care and double checking her work. She found that she had rather missed the feeling of being ensconced in armor, and ready to push herself to her limits in combat. She strapped the simple wooden shield to her arm, and picked up and tested the wooden sword, twirling it in her hand.

Across from her, one of the birdkeepers was doing similar work to one of the larger chocobos, placing a simple armored barding on it, and speaking low and quiet to it before turning to her.

"Ever fought one of these before, madam?" he asked.

Zoissette made a face. "Please, not madam. But no, I have not."

"Lady?" he asked.

"That will do," she replied.

"Alright. Well, my lady, it is simple enough, though it has been some time since the birds have had live practice, so be sure to be careful. I'll be keeping an eye out, but accidents happen."

Zoissette nodded.

It was barely a bell later when said accidents happened.

-*-

Rose was fussing over Zoissette as they both stood in the bathroom, Zoissette leaning against the sink and staring at her face in the mirror while Rose attempted to apply bandages.

"Halone have mercy," Rose said, starting up another lecture. "It is good that you got this out of the way early, with any luck Lavender will be able to fix you up and have you ready for the morrow."

"I thought you did not approve of her so-called hedge magicks," said Zoissette. She did not know the specifics of how Lavender did what she did, but she did know she had a reputation among the others for being a reasonable healer to turn to when a trip to Falcon's Nest would take too long.

Rose huffed. "I approve even less of your misadventures, dear! And I suspect any gentleman worth Halone's ice would not approve, either. My goodness. I believe I have stopped the bleeding for now. Stay here, I simply must fetch Lavender to take a look."

Rose disappeared, and Zoissette was left staring at herself in the mirror, and the large purple mark around her one eye and the blood still trailing from her nose.

She should feel miserable.

Instead, she slowly smiled at herself, and then ducked her head down, feeling as though she was almost too shy to even look at herself or admit her feelings, but Fury, that had felt good. The bird had been fast, and she had been no faster, and she had been pressed beyond her limits, but the contest had been exciting, and she had felt herself, her whole self, fair run fast. It was impressive, she decided, what her body could do when pushed. And she felt she rather enjoyed the sensation of doing so. And the chocobo had seemed to enjoy the challenge as well, kwehing and strutting as it did afterwards.

Well, as it did before she had nearly collapsed into the fence. Then it had been all concerned movements, and nervousness, but that was fine. She would tend to it later, and make sure it would be okay.

First she had to tend to herself.

Though she could at least direct someone to go and give it some treats for a job well done. She nodded, and got up to go do so. It would not be so difficult for Rose to find her, she was certain, as she was not going far.

She walked out into the front room, bandages around her midsection and arm, dressed in little more than pants and an undershirt, and stopped.

Lavender and Rose were out there already, Rose coming to a sudden stop in her dash to return to the bathroom. Lavender stopped as well. The gentleman that was with Lavender took a step back, and looked like he might be ill, and Zoissette looked at him with a frown.

"Lavender, who is this?" she asked.

"Ah, he has not made his formal introduction yet, my lady," she said, turning to him. "but I believe him to be your latest gentleman caller on behalf of Father Vocon."

"How are you still standing?" he said, alarmed, looking Zoissette from head to toe.

Zoissette looked down at herself, as Rose rushed to her side and began to tighten some of her bandages. Ah. She had pulled something loose when she had moved from the bathroom, it seemed.

"I do appear to be bleeding. Again," she said. Zoissette looked at the man oddly. "You are not supposed to be here until tomorrow."

"...Iceday?" he said, tentatively.

Zoissette shook her head, maneuvering herself to be able to lean against a door frame. "Today is Windsday," she said.

"Oh. Ah. Uhm... shall I return tomorrow, then?" he said, weakly. It was as if he was barely present anymore. Lavender took him gently by the arm, and began to steer him towards the door to outside.

"Perhaps we can reschedule," said Lavender, glancing back over her shoulder at Zoissette. "My lady seems to be having a minor emergency that must be tended to. You understand."

"Erm. Yes. Of course," he said. Once the door was shut behind him, Zoissette could just make out the sound of feet running away from the house. She shook her head.

"Surely he has seen worse?" she asked.

Rose tutted. "Never you mind that," she said. "Go sit down, dear. Lavender, give me a hand, will you?"

Zoissette obediently returned to the bathroom, and sat down, as the two ladies tended to her wounds.

-*-

Zoissette, Father Vocon, and her own father were sitting around the dining room table. The plates had been doled out appropriately, and each of them had a cup of tea, but conversation was not readily coming. In fact, after some initially awkward pleasantries, delivered with strained voices and severe restraint, none of the three had said much of anything.

At last, however, Father Vocon spoke up.

"Your daughter," he said, "seems to be unduly prone to disaster."

Her father just sighed. "A run of bad luck, I am certain," he said. "She just needed time to settle in, that is all. And then, to hear the story told, two of her callers, well, they just seemed to invite themselves to, ah, rather poor timing."

Zoissette looked over at her father.

"Did you know that weeds are levin aspected?" she asked.

Father Vocon looked at her oddly across the table, but her father just sighed.

"...I did not," her father said.

"It leads to an interesting phenomenon where you can actually increase crop yield while planting weeds. It requires more care, and a good deal of attention to make sure they do not take over, but finding an aspect balance appears to be quite good for the land. And we were able to grow over winter.

"And I have begun training the chocobos, and already have a few potentials interested in reviewing them. Also, of the missives I have sent out, one responded with a suggestion of riding lessons for the Greystones and Mystes that they would pay to sponsor. I intend to follow up on that."

Zoissette leaned forward to rest her forearms on the table as she tried to give her father her best reassuring smile.

"So the farm is doing quite well, father, and I have made those connections you were so concerned about."

Zoissette was banking on him still being too roundabout to address what he wanted directly.

She had not considered that Father Vocon might have his own agenda.

"That is all well and good," said Father Vocon, looking meaningfully at her father, "But we still must needs address the needs of your house. A good woman is in need of a good suitor, and many good men are in need of a good woman to help guide their house and take care of their homes, through good fortune and ill. And while your daughter is... a bit... unusual, I sense no malice, only goodness. I can well imagine what she might do for the good of both your house and Ishgard, if we could only set her to rights.

"Fortunately, while arrangements have long been the habit of the Highlands due to the remoteness of our settlements and nature of our, ah, sparseness, the establishment of Falcon's Nest provides us with alternatives."

Father Vocon looked cooly at Zoissette, glancing at her from head to toe.

"I believe that she would be an excellent addition to the inaugural debutante ball."

Zoissette smiled thinly and blinked several times.

"Pardon?" she asked.

"Ah!" said father. "I was aware that Falcon Nest has come rather far these last few years, but to host a ball there?"

"Quite so," said Father Vocon. "They see rather a lot of traveller these days, being an excellent pathway to Ishgard, and good access to Riversmeet, Hemlock - even the occasional caravan from Tailfeather. And many minor houses have taken advantage of the new protective fortifications and easy access to move there. Yes. I think we are well past the time of establishment, and others agree. We shall begin to take on responsibilities like those unto any major city. Military, of course, logistical, and..."

He looked meaningfully at Zoissette. "...filial."

"I am near nineteen summers," said Zoissette, distantly. "A little past debutante."

"Well, it is the inaugural debutante ball, dearest," said her father. "I rather suspect the usual age range is going to be quite a bit wider than usual."

"Just so. You would not even be the oldest one there. I have one eligible maiden of twenty-two who shall be making her first appearance," said Father Vocon.

"Well, then, it seems that the matter is settled," said her father. "I shall have a talk with Rose and Lavender about etiquette, and I shall send to Ishgard to get you a new dress. Can you think of aught else she may need?"

Father Vocon shook his head, and Zoissette felt as though she had lost track of the conversation.

"A debutante ball? Me?" she said.

She could see herself in the vanity once more. Tall and broad and muscular and not at all small or dainty or whatever else she had caught snippets of in various conversations about other attributes that were more desirable these days. Narrow shoulders, she was certain. Narrower than hers. Full lips and long hair. Short, and Hyur-like broad hips.

All attributes she lacked. An arrangement at least had the advantage of a decided lack of obvious competition, but to be one in the crowd at a ball. A ball that was certain to have too many people, and too much conversation, and too much too much.

"...darling daughter? Are you feeling well?" she heard her father say.

She took a deep breath in, and closed her eyes.

Well. She still had loyalty to Ishgard, and a duty to her family, however ill suited to it she may be.

"Yes, of course," she said, opening her eyes once more and screwing up her courage. "Apologies, I was - I was just thinking. I will be best pleased, of course, to continue my responsibilities on the farm, while also accepting Father Vocon's gracious invitation, assuming he is extending it?"

"I am," he said, smiling at her. "I trust, given rather more, ah, leeway, that you may yet shine forth Halone's grace, that it may catch an eye or two."

"Yes, of course," she said, still feeling more than a bit distant.

But as she glanced over at her father, she sat up a little straighter, and stiffened her spine. She would see to this duty the same as she had any other, she resolved.

She was still not at all certain about quite what to do, but she would take this opportunity to set things to rights.

#ineligible debutante #final fantasy xiv #zoissette vauban #father vauban #lavender #rose #father vocon #one knight's journey #ineligible debutante - chapter 1 #202211-23 #biot writes

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