Feast of Thanks (one shot)
Give thanks to those you love
The dining room is buzzing with commotion as platters of steaming mounds of food are rushed out from their pots and pans to the pristine royal tablecloth.
Samuel stands silently, watching the servants work away at the feast. This is the first time he’ll be celebrating without his father. This is also the first time he’ll be celebrating with the other Generals, beings not noble or royal themselves. These thoughts fill him with a sorrowful eagerness.
He lifts a hand to a nearby servant to get their attention. “How much longer until the feast is ready?”
“Ah- Soon, soon!” they stammer back, their mind most likely scrambled by the table setting and needing to speak with the royal at the same time. They stand frozen for a moment, waiting to see if Samuel needs anything else, but with a nod of his head the servant rushes away.
Good. The other Generals should be here soon as well.
Plates and silverware are the last to be placed, glimmering crystal goblets shined and positioned where they need to be. It’ll be the himself, the Generals, and each of their family members if they came with any, just enough to fill nearly all the seats. If it were not wartime, other nobles from far-off islands would have sailed to partake in this feast instead.
Then, at last, the business is over, leaving behind a scattering of servants standing by, waiting to be called over for help. Slowly, Samuel makes his way to the other end of the table, to its head where the king always sits, and stands waiting for the rest of his company to arrive.
He made sure to name the seats, letting each General sit with their family. Ezra is the first to arrive with his two parents and sister, with Anya appearing just behind them with a small, wistful smile across her thin lips. Cassie comes alone, her heels clacking against the stone floor, her chin held high as she carries herself to her chair with a suspicious grin plastered onto her face. Jae and Yumi are next, the two healers locked in a serious conversation as they look for their places at the table. Devin and his small family pile in, Ferris alight with wonder as he looks at all the new faces at the table.
“Where are Mathew and Isaac?” Samuel asks his advisor.
“Isaac said he had something to give to Mathew,” Devin replies with a small shrug.
Tapping a finger on the table’s surface, Samuel takes his seat with a sigh. Hopefully they won’t need to wait long for those two to appear. It’s poor manners to start the meal without every being present.
The buzz of conversation turns the air electric as all the beings converse among themselves. Laughing, pointing at the food and drink, bouncing up and down in their seats. It’s a very lively atmosphere. It almost makes Samuel feel silly for sitting straight and still, his face flat as he waits to make his toast. Devin and his family, too, are mostly quiet, with Devin’s mother desperately trying to keep Ferris still in his chair.
Never has a Feast of Thanks been full with this much enthusiasm before. It’s strange yet weirdly liberating all the same. He must still be on his best behavior, though, being the king and all, but seeing all these other beings simply having fun in each other’s company makes him want to smile.
Finally, the Illusion and Ice Generals waltz into the room. Isaac’s eyes go wide almost instantly the moment he sees the table and gathered company. He seems like he’s going to start salivating at any moment. Beside him, Mathew just lets out a hearty laugh and pats Isaac on the shoulder, saying something to him as the two take their places beside one another, though what it was is buried underneath the other chatter. Still, it’s strange to see the Illusionist appear so out of his element, staring at the table as if it were going to disappear at any moment.
Now with all present at the table, Samuel takes up his empty goblet and flicks his fingers against its side. Its light chime rings out across the room, overpowering the busy conversations. One by one, each being settles into their chairs, making sure to speak their last words quickly as they turn their eyes expectantly to the king. Though even in the quiet, the energy remains.
Samuel clears his throat.
“Allow me to be the first to thank all of you for being here. To the Generals, for your service so far, and to their families your support. This is a… strange time we’re all going through, both in this room and beyond it. But we should never forget our traditions, and no matter what may be happening we should still strive to celebrate however we can.
“I hope this will be the first and last Feast of Thanks held during this war, though I’m thankful we are still able to celebrate at the very least. It’s one of the oldest traditions we have, a legacy that will live on long after we all have joined our ancestors in the White Beyond.”
He pauses to take a breath, to recall the blessing he now has to give. He never paid his father much mind when he recited it, knowing full well that he’d have to memorize it for himself in the future. Though he certainly wasn’t expecting his father to be gone so soon. He hopes he remembers it all.
“We raise a glass to Korodon, to our Father of Magic and our guardian Spirit. We thank Him for this food, harvested from the land that He gave to us. We thank Him for this company brought together by His will, and for all of the gifts He has given us, be they large, small, or mysterious. We eat and drink together this cycle because of Him and His guidance. So let us indulge in His gifts for us now and look forward to the future to come.”
With the speech over, the gathering clasp their hands together and murmur “Thank you for this feast” in a disjointed chorus. As Samuel takes his seat once more, two servants emerge holding jugs of fruit juice. They make their way down each side of the table, filling goblets with thick red liquid as the serving commences.
“You sounded just like him,” Devin comments as he reaches for one of the small fruit platters nearby, plucking individual slices from it with delicate care. Indeed, he even reminds himself of his father.
Samuel nods back quietly, his hands folded in his lap as he watches the others fill their plates with food. He should be happy that he’s lucky enough to still be able to enjoy a feast like this. But he still hesitates to serve. Deep in his gut, it feels wrong.
“Are you going to eat?” Devin inquires, eyeing the king’s empty plate.
“I don’t know if I still have an appetite,” Samuel replies, trying to smile and pass it off as a joke, but his stomach is so twisted in knots that it’s hard for him to hide it.
“It’s like you said, we should still strive to celebrate our traditions. And what would the Feast of Thanks be if you don’t enjoy the gift of harvest?”
Samuel lets out a small huff. Once again, his friend has a point. He should at least have something. The cooks spent so long preparing this meal. The farmers worked hard to have this harvest. And the beings at this table are all gathered at his behest. It’d be silly for him not to indulge at least a little bit.
He takes up his fork and reaches for a slab of cut meat, its outside a brownish-gray with its middle a soft red, juice rushing out as he sets it down on his plate. A piece of buttered bread is next, followed by a small pile of fruit slices and, finally, some beans. It’s a small meal. If he’s hungry for more, he’ll fill his plate right back up again. Though he’s not necessarily here for the food this year.
Laughter erupts from down the table; Ezra and Isaac are sharing in some sort of joke or humorous anecdote. Opposite them, Cassie rolls her eyes and carefully places a small cut of meat into her mouth, careful not to have it brush against her bright red lips. Mathew and Anya are playing with some colorful stones and shells as they slowly eat from their plates. Jae has hardly touched her plate with food at all, opting to sample from each platter first before putting together her meal. Devin quietly enjoys his own food beside Samuel. And the king smiles along, happy to be surrounded by good company.
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