Summer Memory

Summer Memories

Georges and Miriame Nouel had left the estate on their annual getaway. This year, they headed to Eisande, to visit Marsilikos. Their children, sixteen year old Jehan, and ten year old Jessamine, were left in the care of their seneschal, Philippe Voclain and his wife, Rosemarie. It was nothing unusual, the Nouel's went away at least once per summer for a few weeks. What was unusual this time was the surprise visit from young Prince Dashielle, much to the dismay of the already seneschal. It was a most welcome visit by the siblings, who always loved having Dashielle visit. If their parents had known the Prince was to visit, they would've delayed their departure until after he departed. Jehan had a penchant for trouble, something intensified by the young Prince's presence.

Jessamine was bored. Michel was nowhere to be seen these days, and with her mother gone, the female presence was gone from the household, with the exception of Rosemarie, who pampered after Jessamine, much to the girl's chagrin. Jehan and Dashielle had taken to leaving her behind, as usual, this visit. Both boys being of age now spent more of their days chasing the servings girls, and didn't want a ten year old shadow, particularly a female shadow. That day they were both merely lounging on the sofas after lunch, complaining of boredom, the heat and Philippe, who had forbidden them from pestering the women that day so proper chores could get done. The weather was hot and humid. Jessa's hair, normally a swathe of rich chocolate ringlets, was pinned up off her neck and she was sweaty. "I want to go swim." She told them, petulant. Jehan merely shoo'd her away. "Look at those clouds, Jess. It's going to storm soon. Go play in your room and leave us be." She stuck her tongue out.

"I'm hot. And covered in sweat. And I'm bored. I am not going to my room because you asked me to, Jehan. You aren't my boss." She yelled at him, growing tired of his arrogance. He was still just her big brother. Whereas she was still a child, with very child-like features, his features were turning more defined and grown up. He merely laughed at her. He was sixteen, a man grown by most accounts. Not hers though. "I'm Lord of the manor at the moment, so yes, I am your boss." He teased. It was good natured, not that Jessamine saw it. Her ten year old brain only saw a condescending big brother. "Elua's balls! You aren't! I'm going to the creek, with or without you." She informed him. He was always so bossy and mean, she thought to herself. Especially when Dashielle was there. She looked at the Prince, hoping he'd play along. "Come on Dashielle! You're hot too! Come swimming with me!" She tried to convince him to come. Dashielle merely shrugged at her, almost amused. She stomped her foot, angry at them both. "Fine." She turned to leave.

"Jess, don't be such a brat. It's going to storm." Jehan said again, sighing softly. She didn't listen, and ran out of the house, slamming the door behind her. It was unladylike, she knew, and her mother would be wroth with her if she saw such behavior. Jessamine didn't care. She ran through the woods, laughing freely, jumping over tree stumps and roots until she found her favorite part of the creek to swim in. It was wider and deeper than most of the creek, but at a bend that created a slow, calm pool. Her mother hated them swimming there. Further down stream was a series of dangerous rapids, though they had always been smart enough to not swim there. Slipping off her shoes and dress, she swam in naught but the slip she wore underneath. It felt good- the water was cool but the winter's cold had long fled. She swam, alone, for a good long while, though she felt lonely for her friends, or her brother and Dashielle's company.

Floating in the water, she looked up into the sky. It was clear and blue above her, with only a small wisp of cloud floating by every once in awhile. The sun seemed to bear down on the world, wilting her and the world alike. It was hard to believe Jehan thought there was a storm coming, but the weather soon proved Jessamine wrong. It seemed to happen so fast. The wind began to pick up a little. Jessa dived underwater, and when she came back up, the blue sky above was quickly being replaced with heavy black clouds. Frowning, she climbed out of the water. In the distance, a rumble of thunder was heard. She slid her wet slip off, wringing it out and draping it on a rock to dry. She twisted her hair to wring that out, and then she put on her dress, and slipped on her shoes. It was a simple one, cotton, with bits of embroidered flowers on the hems. Even after being wring, her heavy wet curls soaked her shoulders and back instantly.

A crack of thunder, and she jumped. She hated thunder. It frightened her more than she admitted to anyone, though Jehan knew. Many times she ended up in his bed in the middle of the night during summer storms. Her father stopped letting her in their bed, not wanting to coddle her too much, but Jehan always let her after he found her sobbing underneath a table during one particularly bad storm when she was six. He hugged her tight, telling her not to be afraid, and then led her back to his bed. He embraced her tight until she fell back asleep. She woke up the next morning in her bed, but after that he never turned her away. Biting her lip, she headed back to the house. Within minutes, the rain came down, heavy and drenching. The winds blew, sending branches and leaves flying against her. A certain unreasonable terror gripped her. Thunder rumbled now every few seconds, making her cower, her hands over her ears before she'd start to run again.

Climbing over an aged fallen tree that leaned on a giant rock, her dress caught and tore. Mud squished in between her toes, and she realized she lost one of her shoes. She wasn't turning back though. Then something hard hit her in the shoulder, and then her head. Hail. Tears spilled as she looked for someplace to shelter. She crawled beneath the fallen tree and next to the rock, it barely covered her from the falling hail, the size of marbles. The thunder was louder, and she cried, a few times screeching along as it seemed the world would be torn asunder. The lightening in the sky was bright and clear, streaking across the sky in blues and yellows and reds.

She didn't know how long the storm lasted, or how long she huddled beneath the fallen tree. Not long, as least not the hail, or the thunder so loud it seemed to deafen her. It felt like forever though. Finally the hail stopped, only the fall of rain washing over the world. She didn't want to move though, afraid it would start again. Afraid of the thunder which still rolled loudly. She cried, shaking with fear.

"Jessamine?" A voice called her. She opened her eyes to see Dashielle crouching next to her. "Hey. You okay?" He asked, nonchalantly . The rain had drenched him, his brown hair looked black, but his blue eyes were soft. She waited for it, but he didnt make fun of her. He held a piece of her dress in his hand, the piece the tree had tore off in her haste. She crawled out quickly, her cheeks salt-stained. She gripped him tight, nodding. He placed a hand on her head.

"Should've listened to your brother, you know." He said, though it wasn't unkindly. He pulled one of her wet curls playfully. "Let's get you back, silly girl. Your seneschal is in a panic." He made some sort of whistling sound that seemed to echo through the woods. Someone whistled back. They had been looking for her, in the rain, in the storm. He picked her up gently, one muddy foot bare foot. She merely gazed up at him the whole time.

Jehan, just as wet as Dashielle, snatched her from the prince, hugging her. "Thank Elua! You frightened all of us, Jessamine." He reprimanded. Rosemarie tutted him and tried to hustle her off for a bath, but Jehan held onto her a moment, scolding her. "I told you so. You're so much trouble, Jess. You could've been hurt..." He said, rolling his eyes at her, though she saw the worry in his features., and he held her tight. She didn't stuck her tongue out at him this time.

Philippe came out of the woods. "Jessamine Nouel, you will be lucky if your father doesn't order you chastised when he hears of this." He was wroth. Jehan set her down, and shrugged at the man. "It's done." He said simply, his eyes calm but looking at the seneschal. If father heard about it, he never said anything to Jessamine. "Jess, go bathe. We'll have dinner in an hour…"

"Don't call me Jess." She said, stubbornly. "And I was fine. I hid under the fallen tree, and didn't cry." She lied. Realizing Dash probably saw her crying, she looked at him shyly. Dashielle merely shrugged, not saying if she did or not, but Jehan snorted. "You always cry." Jessamine got mad and threw some mud from her dress at him, making him laugh at her, and Philippe scolded them both for behaving as such. Jessamine didn't care, and merely gazed adoringly at Dashielle until Rosemarie dragged her up to the baths. "Make it a quick one, Jess! Dash and I have to bathe now." He yelled up at her as she was carted upstairs to the bath.