Choose Your Fate

She faced them with a definite air of resolution; hid the trembling of her heart within. She was scared, and deathly so, of the people ringing the great stone hall. Terrified of the man in the throne before her. She stood before him, bright with the mannerisms of serenity.

These people weren’t much to fear if one looked at them plainly. Some looked passing pleasant even. But they hid their bitter and hard feelings beneath matted fur cloaks and smiles that were somewhat dimmed. They cinched their large and full bellies with extravagant jewels but still looked at her possessions, wanting more. They were underhanded and cruel; a sharp pinch and stolen belongings in darkened corridors. Sweet words in the sunlight.

They judged her for her brother’s actions. If he was a rapscallion, so was she. She was termed a thief when he nicked a slice of bread. A tart when he looked for a good bed partner. If he deserved a whipping, she got one. And clever these people were, doing so at night, committing terrible atrocities under the cover of darkness. Each time she watched as their souls grew black and evil and grotesquely ugly with the deed, a monster with a sharp tongue and mean eyes.

Even her status as a noblewoman did not protect her from their demons.

She knew that they were only spurred on by jealousy, felt it in her bones as her father had once felt about the weather. Jealous of her fine velvet gown, purple like the royals. Jealous of her family’s handsome looks and fine money. So slowly, those things faded away; till there was nothing left for her to do but cry and she wondered if tears would make them feel guilty. Or perhaps it would make them punish her more. She kept her tears to herself as her brother let his emotions run free. He knew nothing of the punishments she received for everything he did.

And now he was receiving an exile from the court.

An exile meant to send him deep within the wilderness, vulnerable to the bandits and Normans alike. Guards had already dragged him from the hall. His cries had hurt her ears and she had winced as she was called before the king. There was silence now, silence as she was scrutinized from every level. From the bare patches of her once fine velvet dress and the shameful lack of jewels to the suspicious brightness of her eyes.

They hoped she would cry and prove herself as weak as her brother. They wanted to watch as she broke down. As she begged to stay with them. But she would not cry. Her tears refused to come to spur their amusement.

She did not look down in shame as an insult was called out. It should have offended her and her brother and her dead father and mother. Would have insulted them, but not her. It was one she’d heard a million different times in a thousand different voices.

The king stared at her as she stood alone before him. He was old, once a good and fair king, he was now often manipulated by the court. He let the sly whispers of the courtiers poison his mind with slimy black whispers and swiftly given gifts. His face was lined by exhaustion and anger and other things she wished never to encounter. There was hardly a thought in his eyes when he posed the one question she had never expected.

Did she wish to go with her only brother into exile? Or did she wish to stay at court?

She heard the snickers of the courtiers and knew instinctively that they had devised this question; this form of torture. The lands outside of the castle gates were known as terribly wild and untamed. Their dark and somewhat macabre edge was the stuff of legends, as blood was said to be the nourishment of the twisting and overlapping trees. The fey creatures and faeries were rumored to live within the trees and the fey were clever and sly beings.

They were sure she’d choose the warm castle atriums, and the courtiers would consider this an open forfeit of the rest of her wealth. Her marriage to one of them would be inevitable and painful. It would lead to beatings and emotional abuse and rape and most certainly her death.

And so, she walked outside to the gates and then through the gates with a ramrod straight back and not one word. Never did she shed a tear and give them pleasure for it. No pride lost, just a steadfast show of loyalty to her brother exhibited. This was the preferable route. The fey couldn’t possibly be as cruel as these flesh and blood creatures.

THE END.

9-16-07

A new and revised version of “Choose Your Fate”. I think that I’ve gotten most, if not all, of the errors and such. However, constructive criticism is still welcomed and in fact wanted.

On that note, a great thanks to Jesse the Storyteller for just such a review. It was great to get someone’s opinion on something and also a few pointers! Thanks!

Late March