A/N: ok, hiya! i know i'm suppost to be working on a sequel to my other story "Flashbacks", but this just came to me, and that's how i write. so, hope all you lovelies enjoy! :)
In my world, you only have one chance. When you're born, you either live or die. When you're damned enough to live a life like this, you're given only what you need: food, jeans, one warm shirt, one cold shirt, undergarments, a jacket, a backpack, and a weapon. That's right, in my world, they hand over a weapon to a 3-year-old.
You see, my world is harsh. Parents only stick around to see you married off at the age of 13. After 3 years of marriage, you are expected to have your first child. Another thing, if you can't reproduce, your husband moves on to a girl that can. No second chances for the unfertile. That's the hard truth.
So, when you're 3, you're given your weapon. The adults observe you from your first breath and decide which weapon will be given to you, which weapon you will depend on for your entire life. After receiving your weapon, you go through 10 years of school learning how to use it, how to fix it, how to build a new weapon, and building up your skill with it. My weapon is a bow and arrow. The adults gave it to me because they saw wisdom and knowledge in me, which is required to learn how to use a bow and arrow.
My life. Hm, well, I'm 13, very experience with the bow and arrow, my weapon; I'm engaged to a boy I've never met, and I'm just as hard as the rock I sleep on. 13, it's a turning point in life. My parents, whom I think wanted me gone the second the adults saw potential in me, have decided to marry me off to a boy I don't even know! His name is Deaglan ("deck-lan"), which means "full of goodness" in my language. Irish, to be exact. He's 6'8, the tallest boy in the village, 16, which is the 3 years apart from my age that is required, and has never met me either, I think. My parents never tell me anything. All they told me about him was, "He's a good match for you. Since you're so hard and strong, and he's so caring an gently, your children will have the perfect balance of brains, endurance, and sweet hearts." Sweet hearts my ass! I was going to teach my kids how to survive, and nothing else.
Oh, you want to know more about me? Well, you already know my age, my weapon, and my name. Oh? Not my name? Ok, it's Eimear("ee-mer"), which means "beauty, a gentle voice, sweet words, wisdom, needlework, and chastity." What else, what else, what else? Ok, description of myself: I'm the only blonde Irish that I know, I'm freakishly tall for a 13-year-old girl at 6'0, my skin is pale, flawless; my facial features are soft, but sharp in an intimidating way. I think it's because my grandfather was a Saxon. He still lives in the village with my grandmother, they're both about 35. That's not considered old, but you are a grandparent by then. Either way, my grandfather is a very handsome and respected man. When my siblings and I were younger, he would come and visit us when my parents went to make dinner or go wash. When he would come over, he would always bring with him books and we would read them together.
Back to me, well, nothing more about me, how about my family? Ok? Ok, my mother is 17 years older than me, considering I'm the second child out of three. My father is 20 years older than me, and I look the most like him ,even though he's not blonde or a girl. My older brother, Alroy, which means "high aspirations," is a year older than me, and still lives at home. My younger brother, Orin ("o-rin") which means "dark haired", is two years younger than me and is the most annoying little thing you have ever met! I'm the only girl, but I sure do smack Orin around a lot. He deserves it, that little twit! He's one of the main reasons I can't wait to leave this cottage!
Deaglan is coming over today. Our parents want us to meet before the wedding in a month. They say we need to, "bond and find similarities between us to have a successful marriage." Bullshit! My parents just want to make sure I'm not strong enough to kill him if I got mad enough, which has been a problem with Orin. I would never kill my sibling, but when he gets cocky and acts like a jerk, I beat him so hard, the next day he can't walk to the spring just by our cottage.
When Deaglan got to our cottage, my mother got very excited, which made her brush and style my hair even faster, which caused me even more pain. I let her finish my hair before jumping up and looking out the window in the wall. No use, the flower vines I had planted when I was 5 had covered the window and only allowed a small hole for looking through. I could only see a change in colors, and the color of yellowish that I saw, I had mistaken it for sunlight.
"Eimear!" my mother shouted down the dusty hallway. "Someone is here to see you," she hollered again. I had to kill her for shouting when all the witnesses were gone. Even though I'm a tuff girl, it doesn't mean I don't care about what people think of me.
I stepped out of my mother's room and into the hallway. I walked steadily down the hallway, not wanting to rush and make whoever was here think I actually wanted to see them. But when I finished the hallway, and I stepped into the front room, my composter of cool and collected completely dropped away once I saw Deaglan's eyes. They were blue and bright, like mine. And his hair skin was white and clear, like mine. But most of all, his hair was like rays of yellow sunshine, just like mine. He was the only other person in the entire village that was like me in coloring, and this is what first attracted me to him. Second, was his voice.
"He-hello Eimear," he said shyly, looking down on me. His mother looked at him and gave his a nudge before he started talking again, "It's . . . it's very nice to meet you. I'm very honored to be in your presence." He was so humble, it was adorable.
My mother looked at me, trying to send the look of "say something," but I had already started to talk, "Would you and your mother like to stay for dinner tonight? My father is bringing home fresh deer and I'm cooking it tonight."
"Oh, yes! We would both just love that!" his mother, Deidre, said. Deaglan looked shocked, but once he noticed me watching him he looked outside at the lake close to our cottage. His mother, on the other hand, was looking around the room we were in, almost like she had lost something and was searching for it through everything. Was she sizing up our living style? How dare she, that bitch! I can show her a few things about our living style: how to fight off a girl with two brothers!
Deaglan, of course, during dinner had to sit in between both of my brothers. His mother sat next to my mother, who sat next to my father. My father, once again, of course; sat next to me with Alroy on my right. Alroy's eyes were constantly shifting from me to Deaglan. It made me think that he thought we had just had sex or something. Haha, as if? I'm not a "romantic" kind of girl. I'm the kind that beats you to a pulp if you look at me funny. The kind who rooms the mountains alone with just the cloths on my back and my weapon. The kind who doesn't fall for a super hot guy who you're eating dinner with and will eventually be calling me his wife. That's NOT me.
"So Margret," Deidre said, "when will the wedding begin? Since you are the bride's mother, you should have all the plans done by now, at least." That woman was a bitch, and if the two strongest men in my family weren't sitting next to me on both sides, she would have had scrawled on her forehead with my fork. Damn it.
"Well, I was thinking they could have a spring wedding because they flowers are just blooming and it'll both smell and look amazing during that time. A wedding to remember, truly," my mother said confidently. She was never hurt by other's words. Nor other's flying fists.
My mother was a very polite and courteous woman. The ideal wife. She made meals, washed cloths and dishes, and raised us kids with no complaints. Her parents married her off to my father at a late 15 because they felt she needed more time to learn about being a complete person. Someone who is part of her community, has a close connection with her children, and someone who has excellent motor skills to cook extravagant meals for special occasions and everyday meals. When she had me, I was not the ideal daughter.
Growing up with one older and one younger brother does things to you. For one, it takes away all girly ness, second, you're no longer soft and untouched, you're beaten, and that makes you strong and tough. Third, it gives you a reason for always coming home dirty from any chore you had to do with your siblings. For example, "I had to push him in the mud Mommy, he threw some on my dress." That was a very much used explanation when I was 5. My mother could never dress me in anything nice and leave me unsupervised because I would just get it dirty or tear it. She couldn't teach me how to cook because I was too busy heating up a rock and then slapping it on Alroy's back when he wouldn't wear a shirt, by the way, that stopped after I turned 7. That boy is not hard to break. She also tried to teach me how to sew clothing, but you can imagine how that one turned out. Small child with sharp object and annoying little brother. Let's just say that Orin doesn't like dark hallways or pokey blankets anymore.
"Eimear, darling," I was going to smack her if she called me that again, "what would you like for the wedding? Anything important?" my mother looked at me intensely, hoping, just maybe, that I actually cared about this thing, which most girls did. To save her from shame I said, "I'd like to have my wedding in spring, and my mother must make my dress. I know it's ageist tradition," and this part I really liked from the look on Deidre's face, "but I'm just that way, so deal with it." YES!!! Strike 1 for me, 0 for Deidre.
"Nice, just what you needed to say to your future mother-in-law the first night you meet her," Alroy chuckled into my ear.
"Well, that's just me, so deal," I bluntly said back. This just made him laugh harder, causing him to excuse himself from the table to go laugh in private. This left a large empty space in between Deaglan and me. Great!
I could see him watching me. He was very nice looking, but I didn't see what he saw appealing in me. It's not like I'm pretty, in my opinion. My mother says I'm pretty, but she's a mom, she has to say that! False info! Sure, I'm tall, only blonde girl in the village, fair, perfect skin, and I have green eyes, but that's it! I'm skinny, but curvy, and my hair is wavy, not straight or curly, but wavy. I wear ok clothing, and I have some muscle from punching the punching bags so often (bag 1: Alroy, bag 2:Orin). There's nothing exciting about me. Just a regular village girl. On the other hand, Deaglan came from a rich family, growing up in a large cottage, with a nanny to watch him 24/7, and all the things he ever wanted. Maybe he was the reason we were getting married. Maybe he wanted me! Shouldn't I have a say in this?! Oh fine, it's not like I had my eye on anyone anyway.
"Deaglan, why don't you help Eimear with the dishes," Deidre asked her son, while I headed into the little kitchen in the next room.
"Of course, let me help you with those Eimear," Deaglan said, taking the dishes from the table and my hands. Wow, he was strong! Those plates weighted a ton each! And he was holding 7 of them all at once.
"Oh, thank you," I said, surprised by his strength. He gently set them down next to the pale of water I had brought in and started washing. I stepped up next to him, ready to do my part, but he waved me off and said, "A beautiful young lady like yourself shouldn't have to do the dishes after preparing the meal."
"Really, I can do the dishes, you're a guest, you shouldn't have to do them," I said, trying to squish in between him and the pale, no luck. Instead, he swept me up in his arms and whispered to me, "Why don't we go for a walk and talk? The dishes can wait and our parents are talking, so they won't miss us."
"Uh," brain fart, damn my slow brain!, "ok." And damn his charm too!
He walked us outside and onto the little path my father had made out of rocks by pounding them into the ground. Deaglan sat me down gently on my feet on one of the largest stones next to him, before taking my arm and putting it in his, keeping me close to him.
"So, what are we going to talk about?" I asked while he took off his jacket and put it on my shoulders. It was warm, and I gladly took it for my dress didn't cover my shoulders. Damn things are so impractical.
"Well, we could talk about why we're getting married," he suggested. Finally, the answer to my question that I had been asking for months.
"Ok, I'm guessing you know, because I don't," I replied, looking up at him and his blue blue eyes.
"I do. We're getting married because when I first saw you, you were so interesting and I just had to meet you. I never did get the chance until now, but my mother and father want me to get married and have grandchildren before they're 40, so I decided to pick you," he said.
"But why me?"
"Because you were the only one like me. We would make beautiful, strong, and intelligent children. And because your beauty should not be wasted on chores but used to its full potential but governing a home and my family business, which will be given to us once we're married," he said, looking into my eyes.
"But what if I want to live with my family and do my chores?" Damn it! He was offering you a life of luxury, why the HELL are you asking questions?
"They can live with us if you want. Even when your brothers get married, they can live with us. And the chores, well, you will be raising children, if you want. I won't push for them, only if you want to have children. It's all up to you." He was watching me intensely after saying this. But let's pause for a moment so I can explain.
So, in my village, as you know, a girl is to be married off at the age of 13. People don't marry for love, but sometimes after meeting, they fall in love. My parents have simply picked the best man for me to marry. I don't think they realized that I could possibily fall in love with him. I'm not that kind of girl! How could this be happening?! But not the point. When girls get married, they are expected to obey their husbands and to give them children. They aren't asked, it's just understood. But what Deaglan was doing, asking me if I wanted children, was unheard of. Never did you hear, "Oh yes! He asked her just before they got married how many children she wanted, and guess what! They had 3, just what she had asked for." Or "No, they don't have children, she didn't want any." But hear I was, walking with the most beautiful boy in the village, while he asked me if I wanted children or not.
"I . . . I . . . never thought about having kids just after getting married. I mean, I'm only 13! And you're 16, you've been through so much more than me. You've finished schooling, started running a family business, and have all . ready . fallen . . in love. . ." I said, hesitating at the end, not sure what to say.
"With you," he said. He smiled at me and I couldn't help but walk closer to him. Interesting night right?
A/N: so? how was it? tell me what you think. just click on the little button below. ok lovelies, so yup, chapter one down. :)