*feels the burning glare of my other unfinished fics* hahahaha...here we go.
Ariel Kølher was a wild girl.
Ever since she was born, her family knew she would be difficult to tame. She had wide blue eyes, pale skin that was smattered with freckles, and a mane of curly blonde hair. She was everything you told a young lady to not be: brash, loud, obnoxious, clumsy, and always stating her opinions. It had proven to cause many problems in the life of the Kølher family. But it wasn't Ariel's fault that they were now moving from Denmark to the American colonies in shame. No, it was the fault of her fifteen year old sister, Beatrice.
Beatrice, who was quiet and kind. Beatrice, who was a proper young lady. Beatrice, who had sinned beyond redemption. Ariel remembered having to watch them tie her little sister to a pole and see it go up in flames. Ariel could still hear the screams of Beatrice and Tina, the girl who burned with her. The seventeen year old would still wake up with tears on her cheeks, screeching her sister's name. This caused her shipmates to give her a wide berth.
The Kølher's would simply say they needed a change of scenery, when asked why they were moving. But Ariel knew. Ariel knew that they were mortified of their own child. Ariel knew that they didn't even fight the charges placed on their youngest daughter. For that, she would never forgive them.
"Ariel, wake up. Now."
Ariel groaned into the ground. She had stayed up again, watching the waves crash against the ship. Ever since she had seen the ocean, she was mesmerized. Its strange depths called to her, and she would do anything to figure them out.
"Ariel! We're here!" Her mother whispered heatedly, and Ariel's eyes snapped open. They were here. The American colonies.
"Y-Yes mother!" The Dane said quickly, jumping to her feet and wiping away the drool on the corner of her mouth. Her mother was not impressed.
"Honestly, Ariel, what am I going to do with you? Your hair is a mess! Fix that bun immediately!"
Ariel sighed, untying the ribbon and pulling her long hair up yet again. She never really understood why she couldn't wear her hair down. Other girls could, but her mother refused. It was also easier, at the very least.
After what seemed like hours of waiting, the Kølher family was finally off of the ship. Ariel looked around with unabashed curiosity, smiling at the simplicity of Virginia.
"We should have a carriage on its way to get us. Look around, my girl. Isn't it lovely?" Her father asked, and Ariel beamed widely.
"Ja! I love it, papa!" She replied, and her father chuckled and ruffled her hair, much to the irritation of her mother.
"Good. Welcome home, min elskede."
As the months passed, the glamor of living in a new area quickly vanished.
Ariel was put to work. She didn't mind working, but it was the type of work it was that bugged her: cleaning, cooking, and babysitting. Feminine things. Things that would find her a good husband, according to her mother.
In other words, it was awful.
Ariel would've loved to go cut firewood, or fetch water, or anything to get her hands dirty. But it wasn't dignified. It wasn't proper. It was wrong (at least to her parents).
The boys in town never really looked at Ariel, considering she was a woman who demanded respect. At the very most, they saw her as a sister. Others, on the other hand, saw her as a nuisance.
Ariel would beg for an adventure with every prayer she said. It was tiresome, doing the same thing every day, and the mere thought of doing this for the rest of her life was terrifying. She knew she was meant for more than this.
Ariel should've been more careful for what she wished for.
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