Role

Chapter 1

Ayree'llewyn Laussellwairr was born to a mother and father still young in love
and free of care. Her mother, Mayvea'llewyn, a lanky beauty, was the daughter
of a vineyard owner in Darsylon. As keys sometimes lose themselves and are
sometimes lost by their owners, the unfortunate result is the same: you're
going to need a locksmith. Enter the roguishly handsome Wialor Laussellwairr,
who came to aid Mayvea's father in unlocking a particularly stubborn cellar
door. He was invited to stay for dinner, and more importantly, to stay for
drink. Stay that night he did, and in a way, he never left. Wialor offered to
come back the next day, to install locks that could be puzzled out rather than
requiring an easy to lose key. Puzzles the winemaker alone would know the
solution to. The next day after, Wialor returned with fruits that had never
made their way to Darsylon before, offering the winemaker new sweet bases on
which to ferment and experiment upon. The day after that he brought a bottle of
aged grain liquor so sweet and light, even a winemaker had to take notice. All
the while, each day Wialor spent a bit more time with Mayvea'llewyn. First a
stolen glance, then a chaste kiss, then a climb up a wall to an open bedroom,
and then pleasures, and proclamations, and finally admissions of devotion.

Barely a week had gone by but Wialor had seduced and impressed both the
daughter and the father. At a social feast without any pretension of a reason
for a visit, Wialor found a way to mention he would like to court Mayvea'llewyn
if her father approved. The winemaker gleefully agreed. The charade continued
for a month of formal visits, chaperoned walks, and finally culminating in a
bended knee proposal.

Ayree'llewyn was born just long enough after the wedding commenced. There were
a few rumors, little gossip, save a knowing glance or raised eyebrow in the
couple's direction. It was a joyous birth, as free from pain as any the
Ayree'llewyn was born just long enough after the wedding commenced. There were
few rumors, little gossip, save for a knowing glance or raised eyebrow in the
couple's direction. It was a joyous birth, as free from pain as any the
nursemaid had ever seen.

Nothing else was simple or carefree or kind thereafter.