The Tea Party

Rautu says feh on your tea party

In the fantastically hilarious Gentlemen Broncos, famed writer Dr. Ronald Chevalier states that Teacup is a stupid name for a troll. I disagree. I made the comment that a story about Teacup the Troll was in order. Here it is.  

The Tea Party

                It was Gods’ Day, the day upon which all of Frewyn was encouraged to take rest from their work and join the Church services, adding their prayer and supplication to those of the Reverend Mother and the Brothers and Sisters who resided in the boarding house of the Church. Among those who felt the sting of culpability enough to conform to worship were the orphans, forced into such an unfortunate situation by the brutality of the Galleisian War. They would remain for the first portion of the Gods’ Day services but were permitted to leave at the intermission, as children of young age could not be expected to listening to the dronings of an old and tiresome woman for more than an hour. The children were taken outside and allowed to play within the boundaries of the orphanage yard and though they had toys and playmate enough to occupy them, Unghaahi and Obhantaa Leraa shared concern for them.

                In the Haanta society, children or Mivaari, those who were only learning their purpose in the world, were never left unattended. They always retained every advantage of life that could be given them: priests to guide them, teachers to educate them, masters to broaden their understanding and pay them every due attention, and when Unghaahi first noted that the children of the orphanages in the mainland were disregarded and seen as a means to end the suffering of two yearning parents, he made it his object to care for them. He knew himself to be only Den Amhadhri, head commander of Sanhedhran’s Amghari and master of Hophsaas, not a nurturer in any respect, but he vowed to do his utmost for the children by visiting oftener than was needed and teaching them all that he could on the subjects in which he was most learned. Defense of oneself, the arts of diplomacy and kind persuasion, how to conduct oneself with honour, these were the lessons Unghaahi felt qualified enough to impart.

                When Obhantaa Leraa joined the inhabitants of the keep, he furthermore joined Unghaahi every week to visit the children. The two giants would wait until the intermission in the Gods’ Day services and meet the children in the yard where they would play and learn together. Obhantaa would read to them and tell them stories of the Haanta legends, thinking it important for young Mivaari to know of their heritage, and he would allow them to ride his hangaara cat. There was much apprehension at first regarding the large beast but judging by Obhantaa Leraa’s sweetness in temper and remarking how the cat never left the giant’s side, the Sisters in charge of watching the children soon allowed them near the sleek animal.

                When the services concluded and everyone in the Church was eager to return to their homes or tavern for a good meal, or to the marketplace to spend the remainder of the day purchasing what was on sale in honour of the day, the parishioners piled out of the Church to see Unghaahi and Obhantaa amidst the children, talking with them, laughing with them, allowing them to tug their braids and play with their padded feet. The women of the congregation stood by, paying the two giants doting looks as they enjoyed the company of the children. They squealed at how dutiful they were in their attention and they made several remarked to passing men of how they should use the Haanta as an example of how to treat their young. Husbands soon ushered their wives away to save themselves further remonstration, leaving only the commander and Kai Linaa behind.

                The two remaining women sat in the yard giving each other knowing smiles as they heard Unghaahi reading one of their favourite picture books to them. The tale recanted of a bridge troll of declared his name Teacup. The Troll professed that though his family wished him to be the most frightening and ferocious troll in all the land, he had only the desire for kindliness and camaraderie. Instead of terrify those who crossed his bridge, he would invite travelers in for tea and cakes.     

                “I daresay that book was written with my mate in mind,” the commander murmured to Kai Linaa, thinking of the similarities between Rautu and the troll when the option of cakes was given them.

                Kai Linaa giggled into her hand and her eyes sparkled with adulation for her mate as he read from the tiny book. “I’m melting. This is adorable,” she whispered.

                When the story was done, the children cheered for the troll’s triumph in gaining so many friends and Obhantaa Leraa suggested they have a tea party in honour of the hero’s brave venture to achieve despite all he was taught to believe and follow his Mivaala. Unghaahi explained that many Haanta celebrations were commemorated in such a manner, reading from their scared scriptures and then rejoicing in honour of those who accomplished in the name of their people. Everyone agreed they should have a tea party and Kai Linaa was already on her way toward Diras Delights to procure cakes and biscuits for the occasion.

                A table was brought out and set. The children gathered around and when Kai Linaa returned with numerous boxes, Obhantaa appointed himself as the designated cutter of cake. Tea was made inside the orphanage and brought out for everyone to share. Once all at the table were well situated with a cup of tea and with sweets, excepting Unghaahi, the party began. Obhantaa regaled the children with songs and dances as best as he could portray them and replaced the names of the Haanta champions with Teacup to venerate the troll.

                The commander sat with her tea in one hand, her cake in the other, and had a smile for everything and everyone. “We shall have to boast of this event to my mate,” she said to Kai Linaa. “There was cake to be had and he was nowhere in sight.”

                Kai Linaa was about to reply when the sudden familiar footfall of a particular thunderous giant were heard approaching.

                “Move, woman,” the Den Asaan said, stepping over his mate and into the yard. “There is a piece of chocolate cake that I must claim as mine.” Rautu hurried to the table, braving the horde of children, and bowled them away from the slice that had beckoned him hitherto.

                “How does he always know?” Kai Linaa said in amazement.

                “I daresay he was born with a chocolate detector within him,” the commander laughed. “When there is any within the space of ten miles he knows. The opening of a wrapper, the crinkling of the foil, the snap of a bar in half summon him immediately. Gods pity those who are foolish enough to stand in his way of his dependence.”  

                Kai Linaa simpered at the commander’s assertion and continued laughing as Obhantaa declared that their troll had come. Having little idea what his brother meant by the comparison, Rautu grumbled for being made to stand amidst the children for his piece of cake and Unghaahi informed them that just as the troll in the tale had needed friends to comfort him so to Rautu required all the affection their young hearts could convey. The children leapt up and went to hug the giant’s legs, causing the Den Asaan to roar and thunder away with his cake in his hand and a scowl on his face. His pursuers, however, would not relent and they chased the giant around the yard, claiming that he only needed friends and a tea party to calm his riled sensibilities.