Hearts of Steel and Fire
~ A story of a farmer, a cowboy, some friends and a whole lot of artistic license~
By: Inkplumes (who loves you all 3)
(Her love for you created the cheesy title
Lilly was showing off her ring.
For the twenty seventh time that day.
And Chelsea was faking her enthusiasm.
Also for the twenty seventh time that day.
"I didn't exactly understand half of the words he said, but love is a universal language. Ancestors! I wish all of you will find happiness, just like Will and I." Lilly exclaimed, always the secret romantic, as she lay sprawled out on Chelsea's bed. One slender arm stretched upwards towards the heaven, a sparkling silver ring glinting in the majestic rays of sunset filtering in through the window. A flash of brilliant red sometimes gleamed for a few seconds; the cut ruby mirroring the heavy blush of its mistress's cheek.
It wasn't that Chelsea disliked Lilly - in truth, the two of them were unexpectedly close- but hearing twenty seven different variations of the same few sentences was wearing on Chelsea's rather short nerves. Still, when Lilly cast an expectant glance in her direction Chelsea smiled until her cheeks ached.
"It's so beautiful, Lilly!" Julia, sitting by the kitchen table, agreed. Her blond curls bounced up and down as she nodded vigorously. "I wish Elliot would just "man" (here, Julia used air quotes; a snort of distaste accompanying it) up a bit and propose already. A girl can't wait forever...much less drop more blatantly obvious hints." Her complaint ended with a wistful sigh.
"That no-good, pathetic, wimpy brother of mine! I swear, he's such a stupid pig to keep you waiting Juli. Sometimes, I just want to hit him over the head with a sledgehammer but Chels," Natalie scowled playfully at the farmer, "won't let me borrow hers. Thinks she's the bloody law on these islands. At least he isn't as clueless as Pierre. For all he cares, I could be an eight headed giant with laser eyes. I could be the Harvest Goddess, may She preserve us, herself and he probably wouldn't see me as anything else but his taste tester. Senseless blond pixie!"
"Tell me about unrequited love, ladies." A sudden interruption, a deliciously smooth voice, worked its way into the conversation, floating over from the bed.
Lana sat next to Lilly, twirling her carefully combed golden hair around one delicate pinkie finger. Biting down on one perfectly glossed lip, she frowned slightly. "Back when I was an idol, I sang about it all the time. I made fortunes out of it. Now I'm living in it." Collective murmurs of sympathy and sighs of pure anguish (Chelsea rather overdoing hers dramatically) were waved away with one poised hand. "Oh, you dears. But what can I do about it? Denny only has eyes for that silly little thing. Who's she again? Witch Princess? Witch Countess? Whatever her name is, she's probably enchanted him when she KNEW that he liked me! Jealous old lady. She should just turn herself into a frog."
The silence after that was awkward. Perhaps Lanna was too sweet on Chelsea to notice Denny, but the others did. On such a small island it is hard to not notice what everyone else is up to. And Denny's best-friend act was not selflessly motivated. Natalie sent a quick wink over in Chelsea's direction (furiously rebutted) before Julia managed to throw some comforting words over to Lanna.
"Ah, ladies. If only my ancestors were here then they would talk sense into the men of these islands. You would all be happy brides -and eventually mothers- in a heartbeat! But perhaps, the Harvest Goddess has plans that cannot be interfered. The spinning threads of fate are hard to weave, but patience my dears." Lilly giggled, never fully focusing on the surrounding girls. Her black eyes were focused in delight on the ring.
"Yeah-"
"As if-"
"Lilly, that's so sweet -"
"But the stupid Witc-"
"Erm...Ladies? Ladies! LADIES! P-p-pardon the intrusion." A shy whisper softly came from the corner. Sabrina, the pretty heiress, timidly fixed her thick glasses on her petite nose as the ladies turned their attention onto her small frame. A blush blazed on her porcelain-like skin and little hands played with the purple dress as Sabrina managed to stutter out. "Eep!"
"Oh, sweetie! You're as cute as a button. Sorry for shouting over you." Julia cooed as her bright blue eyes sparkled with an almost motherly affection. "What did you want to say?"
"Oh...I just wanted to ask...Never mind, it was a silly question..."
"Hey, you started, so you finish." Natalie glowered from her corner. No one knows why Natalie liked Mushrooms more than Sabrina, but then nobody ever really asked.
"Oh! Erm, sorry! I'll...f-finish. So...erm, Chels...sea! Erm, ah, w-what does your cousin (here her voice hitched a little and the blush, could it be possible, deepened) l-l-like in girls?" Sabrina stuttered out, her gaze frantically switching between the fiery Natalie and the somewhat dazed Chelsea.
"Mark?" Chelsea asked. Her mind was, for a moment, wandering far away from Lilly and the rest. It surprised her to be addressed directly, rather than follow the social cue from the other girls.
Lilly and Lanna practically stabbed her with their sharp gazes. Obviously. What other cousin is there to speak of?
"Geez. Just wanted to make sure it wasn't Hikari. Or Molly." Chelsea defended herself, raising her gloves encased hands as a sign of defeat. "Sabrina thought they were boys when they came here last summer." Spying the poor Sabrina fidgeting uncomfortably, Chelsea's brusque voice took on a softer tone. She wasn't close to Sabrina, but Chelsea wasn't the type to go around being mean to people for no damn reason. "Not that I blame her. But...are you sure about Mark?"
"Uhmmm...I wasn't asking for myself! What an i-i-i-dea!" Sabrina laughed nervously.
"Sure, little Miss Mouse." Drawled Natalie from her chair, but the others quickly silenced her sarcasm. Even though, personally, Chelsea privately agreed with her best friend.
"Mark? Well, he's an idiot. He likes sexy women. Mature women. Reckless women. Loud women. He used to have tons of girlfriends back in the city and none of them lasted more than a few months. Well, there was this one. Right at the beginning. She was sexy. Mature. Reckless, Loud. Hell, she was his all-in-one. But she was a real sweetheart and they were sweet together. But she eventually broke up with Mark over text."
Cue the collective wince from all those gathered.
Chelsea gave an unlady-like snort and shrugged her shoulders. "Yeah, that hurt him. A lot. He was heartbroken even if he didn't try and flaunt the fact. So he started dating and dumping, so no girl could do the same to him. Blah, blah, blah oh woe is me, for I am the tragic Romeo!" Chelsea rolled her eyes. "I'm not saying the girlie was right to do that to my cousin, but he's got no right to keep using girls like that. So my advice to you, Sabrina (here she swivelled round to face the near-to-tears Sabrina) is simple. Mark? He's a good guy, but...watch out. If you want to pursue him; go ahead. I'll support you. But be careful. Be different from the other girls. Get to know him. Be his friend. Then be his girlfriend."
"S-s-o there's a chance for me?" Sabrina inquired timidly, following a pregnant silence. Her eyes were bright behind the glasses and her lips were half open. Her posture grew straighter but hesitated at the final moment, the shoulders refusing to uncurl. She look half hopeful and half fearful; her heart was clenched in her little fist.
"Hell yeah." Chelsea winked at the girl and grinned. "You're the first girl I think who has a good chance with him. Now he's an idiot, so he may not see it. But...yes."
Sabrina, forever the realist, expected a shrug from the farmer or perhaps a vague answer that wouldn't have exactly given her hope or fear. But then, Chelsea was unpredictable at the best of times and tempestuous at the worst. She admired Chelsea for being confident with her emotions; something she was raised to bottle up and never show. At the same time, Sabrina didn't particularly like the farmer. In the same way she was victimised by Natalia, Sabrina was picking on Chelsea. It was a helpless addiction. A nasty rumour there, perhaps an ill placed foot there.
But, perhaps, she couldn't help a squeak of happiness push its way past her lips and a warm feeling melt over her inside.
Perhaps Chelsea wasn't so bad after all.
Ah, the minds of young women. Forever competing. But for what? The author herself cannot help but fall into that temptation as well. The need of superiority is a sickly sweet poison; once you taste it, there is no return to a state of passive satisfaction.
But we should get back to our courageous heroine and her misadventures. That is what we are here for, no?
"Woah Chels. Didn't peg you for the advice guru of our group." Natalie teased as Chelsea finished beaming at Sabrina. Nonchalantly, she flicked away a fly that came in through the open window of the kitchen. "Damn this summer heat! Lilly, tell me that Will is sane enough not to force you into a wedding dress with long sleeves. I can imagine him dressing you up like some fancy princess,"
"Will has no say in my dress. I am dressing comfortably and he is dressing….Will-style! I expect his royal blood will scorn the intense heat; unwise of him, but at least he will be as handsome as ever. Anyway, he may even come in a potato sack and I will still love him."
"Say, Lilly darling," Lanna spoke up, the previous murderous rage disappeared completely from her, "speaking of dresses and such. Who's going to be your Maid of Honour? It has to be someone who's…confident, compliments you, pretty and generally capable." In an action too innocent to be instinctive, Lanna dropped her eyes humbly to the floor and smiled sweetly to Lilly. In a calculated precision, she tossed back her gleaming hair so that it caught the final rays of light and glowed for a second like liquid fire.
It seemed as though someone had an idea for who should be the chief bridesmaid.
"Have you got anyone in mind, Lanna?" Julia can be as poisonous as she can be sweet. Apparently, she had picked up on the invisible signal Lanna was clearly flaunting. "Care to share?"
Lanna visibly gulped as she saw the hidden threat lacing the icy smile.
"Girls, girls; I love all of you but I can only pick one. Of course, there's going to be a chief bridesmaid but let's never forget the bridesmaids. Julia is going to make a stunning bridesmaid, as are Lanna and Natalie. But Chelsea has to be the chief bridesmaid." Lilly smiled as she glided in between the two girls locked in a staring match, essentially defusing the ticking time bomb.
It took a moment for the carefully placed words to sink in.
"Wait, what?" Lanna, slightly reconciled by her position as bridesmaid, questioned. "Chelsea?"
"Yes. The ancestors would approve. She's capable; she runs a whole farm by herself. I'm sure if I ask nicely then she will dress up. We're good friends. And let's not forget, she has no romantic entanglement." Lilly bowed her head, pleased with her reasoning.
"That's true." Julia considered. "In the four years of her being on the Islands, I never heard Chels gush about someone."
"No one has said anything about anyone and Chelsea. They thought Mark might be the one, but they were family…." Sabrina piped up from the corner.
"Really? I thought Chels had taken a vow of chastity to the Harvest Goddess, may she preserve us!" Natalie shook her head, pink tendrils flying. "Or something like that."
"Well, erm, guys…." Chelsea sheepishly smiled. "About that…..Well, I sure hope this doesn't disqualify me from being your chief bridesmaid Lilly." One hand flew, reflexively, to her chest where it curled up over where her heart beat. It was her turn to change her tan complexion into a red flush that would have challenged a tomato in colour. Her stormy blue eyes sank to the floor for a moment, before flashing up again to regard the surprised faces of her peers.
"Wait…"
"What…."
"Denny?"
"No…"
"Chelsea, you sly dog!" Lilly exclaimed, for the first time sitting up. Her black eyes were dancing with merriment and her lips curled up in a charming smile. "How long have you kept this from us? And who is this mysterious person?! Oh our trust, our trust! It is wounded!"
"Chels!" Natalie threw her arms around her, squeezing her close. "You evil, evil friend. I cannot believe you kept this from me! I knew something was up when Gannon told me he need extra lumber for a larger bed 'fer miz Chelsea'," She grinned deviously, sending a deep and mock- sensual kiss to Chelseal. "So…is it official?"
"Well, kind of? I guess?" Chelsea shrugged, but sent a smile in the direction of her best friend. "We are legally married, he wanted his father (who lives in the city) to see his son married, but we did kind of want to have our church marriage here. With all of you. But then Lilly got engaged by the time we got back and we didn't want to rain on her parade. Anyway, we hate the summer season so we thought a winter wedding will suit us better."
"Oh, Chelsea…" Lilly gratefully drew her arms out to Chelsea, who grasped her hand affectionately. "Thank you."
"Whoever Chelsea has chosen as her life partner, he must be a tall order." Julia smirked as she joined the others in smothering Chelsea. Julia was genuinely happy for Chelsea. In truth, she was afraid that Chelsea (being the utterly fabulous person she is) may think herself excluded from their friendship group. But she had no reason to fear. Love is love, after all; universally acknowledged as a good emotion. Chelsea can succumb to it….but when she chooses.
"Handsome." Lanna sighed dreamily as her brown eyes gazed far away, perhaps searching for Denny.
"Beautiful." Sabrina blushed heavily.
"Charming." Lilly noted.
"Intelligent." Natalie intoned.
"Loving." Julia squealed happily.
"Vaughn." Chelsea answered, slightly muffled from underneath all the bodies.
Silence fell over the group of young women.
One by one, their smiles faded into nothing and each bore a grim shadow across their faces.
One by one, they withdrew from Chelsea.
One by one, they silently closed in on her again.
The silence grew along with the sudden tension, weighing heavier upon the shoulders of Chelsea. The previous joy and goodwill, not to mention companionship, cooled until it sat, a heavy stone, in Chelsea's chest.
"What?"
"WHAT?"
Not far from the farmer's house, a deep voice was heard echoing through the otherwise peaceful evening. Old Taro, now nearing ninety five, scratched his bald head and wondered if the Harvest Goddess was supposed to have a man's voice. Pierre dropped his whisk in surprise and spilt pancake batter all over the floor. He was upset; he had meant to make Natalie delicious blueberry pancakes. Now he would have to start all over again.
But, in reality, it was not the shriek of the Harvest Goddess, or of the Witch Princess.