Authoress's Note: Hullo, everyone! Well, I've finally fixed my terrible tense problems (many thanx to Kerista and chava, for finally forcing me to fix them!) I've also updated, and, other, than tense, a few other things have been minorly altered, so, if you havn't read the story all the way through for a while, I suggest you just read it again! And don't forget to review! MWAH!!! ~Jenny the chica~
Gretchen, a.k.a. Rapunzel
by Jenny the chica
Chapter One: In which Gretchen leaves home...
"Gretchen, come down! You need to get ready! You can sing later," Mother called.
I sighed in mid-note, but scrambled down the stairs, running into Eneé, our maid.
"Sorry!" I yelled over my shoulder as Eneé frantically scooped up the laundry that I had upset. I sighed. I was in a hurry because I had to leave soon to go live in a convent for a few years to be "finished" as Mother puts it. I still didn't see the necessity of going away to live in a place you've never seen, living with people you've never met. Mother didn't seem to agree with my logic.
"There you are," Mother said as I suddenly slowed at the doorway to her bedroom. I took in her tall, willowy figure, clad in her favorite dress of green vines intertwined with leaves of a slightly lighter shade. She said that she always wears it for special occasions, and I hated to think that this was a special occasion to her, because it sure wasn't to me.
I walked over to her and she began to braid and plait my hair for the trip to the Convent of Carronsburgh. As she did this, I heard her humming the song I had been singing earlier. I couldn't hold in my smile. Throughout my thirteen years, Mother has taught me to appreciate music and songs. One thing that Mother said about the convent was that they had a very well known music program, and it was the only thing that I looked forward to at all about leaving. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, but Mother hadn't seen it. That is just as well, for although Mother and I are like peas in a pod, closer than close, I didn't think that I could explain to her the pain my departure was causing me. To leave everything I had ever known was bad enough, but to leave Mother...
A drop of water on my shoulder startled my thoughts as I realized Mother was crying as well. Seeing that she was done braiding my hair, which goes only to my mid-back, I turned and hugged her tightly. She hugged back just as tight, and we stayed like that for a long time. I almost cried again at the thought of having to let go, and I spent the whole time wishing that those moments would stay in my head forever, that I would always be able to go back and feel Mother's arms around me, as I had for thirteen years. My thoughts were interrupted by the neigh of horses as the coach that the convent had sent pulled up in front of our huge manor.
Mother broke away from me, then whispered, "It's time to go, love."
I didn't want to go, but I knew that I had to. I turned to Mother to say goodbye, but she just nodded in response to my facial expression, and I ran downstairs, knowing that there was no way I could have held back my flood of tears if I stayed any longer with
Mother, trying to say goodbye.
I reached the front door, and walked outside after taking one last glance up the winding grand staircase. Enelle, our other maid and Eneé's sister, had already loaded my single trunk into the carriage. I hugged the sisters as they tearfully said goodbye. It was terribly hard for me to have to say goodbye to them, as they have been second mothers to me.
After stepping into the carriage, I noticed a figure that I didn't recognize in the corner. After I sat down, she introduced herself as Sister Adelè. She said that she had been sent by the Convent of Carronsburgh to escort me there. I smiled and said thank you, after which she yelled, "Drive on!" at the driver, who appeared to be another nun of a lower level than Sister Adelè.
"That's Sister Isabelle," she told me, as if she could read my thoughts.
I nodded blankly, then turned around, to look at our manor one last time, and see Mother at her window upstairs. I waved, and she waved back, but then let her curtains conceal her room once more. I slowly turned around, only to find Sister Adelè snoring. This gave me a chance to study her, and I found her to be rather on the plump side, with a kind smile on a chubby face. She had brownish eyebrows, so I assumed that they match her hair, which was concealed by a habit.
After making sure she was asleep, I allowed a few stray tears to wander down my face, willfully letting them come. As I was crying, just about to hit the sobbing-so-terribly-you-can-hardly-breathe-and-there's-no-telling-when-in-the-world-you'll-stop stage, while still trying to somewhat muffle it from Sister Adelè, who could probably sleep through an earthquake, I felt my heel hit something. I reached down, feeling around until I touched a bag of some sorts. I grabbed it and pulled it out, onto my lap. It was a very pretty bag, velvet with delicate vines sewn in it. It was Mother's favorite color of green, and I immediately knew that it was from her. I opened it slowly and delicately, after pushing a few golden strands of my hair out of my face.
I gasped when I saw its contents. I shot a suspicious glance in Sister Adelè's direction, but she continued on snoring, so I opened the book that had been in the bag. I smiled when I saw that it was a book of fairy tales. It had always been an inside joke between Mother and I. Mother had raised me on fairy tales, and I had always said that they reminded me of her, as she looked so like the beautiful heroines in the story. This gift meant more to me than anything else, as Mother had made sure I would constantly remember her during my long years without her at the convent. Now she would be real to me in the stories that she had given me.
Despite myself, a tear rolled down my cheek, and I knew that several more were destined to follow. I inwardly scolded myself for all the petty tears that I had shed today, and just after I had finally convinced myself to stop crying, mainly because of Sister Adelè's presence, I felt something else in the bag.
As I pulled it out, I wondered how I could not have noticed it before, for it was inches thick. Designed as a journal, the little, yet thick, book was simply bounded and filled with common paper. I expected it to be for me to keep a diary of sorts of life in convent school, but when I opened it, it said this:
My dearest Gretchen,
I hope that this message finds you on your way to the Convent of Carronsburgh. Although I know that you do not wish to go, we both know~ yes, you know you do somewhere deep inside~ that it is for the best. Darling, you do not know how much I hate to give you up for a few years, but I think you got an idea from our good-bye.
After that introduction, I will state the real reason that I gave you this journal. You may suspect that this is for you to state your life over the years that you will stay at the convent, but it is not. My dearest, this is a magic book. With it, you and I can write to each other, just like in letters, except the message will get to the other immediately, as will the response. I sent the fairy tale book to you to think of me, and with this book you will be able to talk to me just as if I was right there with you. If you want, we can ever so often work out a time when we both will be there and have an actual conversation through writing. Well dear, have a good time at the convent, remember what I instructed you on, and never forget that I love you with all my heart.
Love,
Mother
Ps~ I know that this book is rather large, but that is to hold the tremendous amount of writing I know you'll write. If you want to make it smaller for traveling or hiding purposes, just say, "inemsu ottweh ihmah" and it will change size to whatever you desire. Whatever you do, take this book with you everywhere, and write often!
I looked up, amazed. Then I read it again. Excited as I was that I would be able to feel almost as if I had never left Mother, I had to wonder how she had gotten a magic book, and known words to make it smaller or larger, as if it wasn't large enough. Confusing myself too much, I followed Sister Adelè's "advice" and went to sleep, but only after reading the first story of my book, saving the others, to spread them out over my first few nights in Carronsburgh, which I suspected to be very lonely.
Author's Note: Thanks and kudo bars to everyone who took the time to read this! I'll post some more of it a little later! To read the story behind this story, go to my profile! Thanks for reading!
Gretchen, a.k.a. Rapunzel
by Jenny the chica
Chapter One: In which Gretchen leaves home...
"Gretchen, come down! You need to get ready! You can sing later," Mother called.
I sighed in mid-note, but scrambled down the stairs, running into Eneé, our maid.
"Sorry!" I yelled over my shoulder as Eneé frantically scooped up the laundry that I had upset. I sighed. I was in a hurry because I had to leave soon to go live in a convent for a few years to be "finished" as Mother puts it. I still didn't see the necessity of going away to live in a place you've never seen, living with people you've never met. Mother didn't seem to agree with my logic.
"There you are," Mother said as I suddenly slowed at the doorway to her bedroom. I took in her tall, willowy figure, clad in her favorite dress of green vines intertwined with leaves of a slightly lighter shade. She said that she always wears it for special occasions, and I hated to think that this was a special occasion to her, because it sure wasn't to me.
I walked over to her and she began to braid and plait my hair for the trip to the Convent of Carronsburgh. As she did this, I heard her humming the song I had been singing earlier. I couldn't hold in my smile. Throughout my thirteen years, Mother has taught me to appreciate music and songs. One thing that Mother said about the convent was that they had a very well known music program, and it was the only thing that I looked forward to at all about leaving. I felt a tear roll down my cheek, but Mother hadn't seen it. That is just as well, for although Mother and I are like peas in a pod, closer than close, I didn't think that I could explain to her the pain my departure was causing me. To leave everything I had ever known was bad enough, but to leave Mother...
A drop of water on my shoulder startled my thoughts as I realized Mother was crying as well. Seeing that she was done braiding my hair, which goes only to my mid-back, I turned and hugged her tightly. She hugged back just as tight, and we stayed like that for a long time. I almost cried again at the thought of having to let go, and I spent the whole time wishing that those moments would stay in my head forever, that I would always be able to go back and feel Mother's arms around me, as I had for thirteen years. My thoughts were interrupted by the neigh of horses as the coach that the convent had sent pulled up in front of our huge manor.
Mother broke away from me, then whispered, "It's time to go, love."
I didn't want to go, but I knew that I had to. I turned to Mother to say goodbye, but she just nodded in response to my facial expression, and I ran downstairs, knowing that there was no way I could have held back my flood of tears if I stayed any longer with
Mother, trying to say goodbye.
I reached the front door, and walked outside after taking one last glance up the winding grand staircase. Enelle, our other maid and Eneé's sister, had already loaded my single trunk into the carriage. I hugged the sisters as they tearfully said goodbye. It was terribly hard for me to have to say goodbye to them, as they have been second mothers to me.
After stepping into the carriage, I noticed a figure that I didn't recognize in the corner. After I sat down, she introduced herself as Sister Adelè. She said that she had been sent by the Convent of Carronsburgh to escort me there. I smiled and said thank you, after which she yelled, "Drive on!" at the driver, who appeared to be another nun of a lower level than Sister Adelè.
"That's Sister Isabelle," she told me, as if she could read my thoughts.
I nodded blankly, then turned around, to look at our manor one last time, and see Mother at her window upstairs. I waved, and she waved back, but then let her curtains conceal her room once more. I slowly turned around, only to find Sister Adelè snoring. This gave me a chance to study her, and I found her to be rather on the plump side, with a kind smile on a chubby face. She had brownish eyebrows, so I assumed that they match her hair, which was concealed by a habit.
After making sure she was asleep, I allowed a few stray tears to wander down my face, willfully letting them come. As I was crying, just about to hit the sobbing-so-terribly-you-can-hardly-breathe-and-there's-no-telling-when-in-the-world-you'll-stop stage, while still trying to somewhat muffle it from Sister Adelè, who could probably sleep through an earthquake, I felt my heel hit something. I reached down, feeling around until I touched a bag of some sorts. I grabbed it and pulled it out, onto my lap. It was a very pretty bag, velvet with delicate vines sewn in it. It was Mother's favorite color of green, and I immediately knew that it was from her. I opened it slowly and delicately, after pushing a few golden strands of my hair out of my face.
I gasped when I saw its contents. I shot a suspicious glance in Sister Adelè's direction, but she continued on snoring, so I opened the book that had been in the bag. I smiled when I saw that it was a book of fairy tales. It had always been an inside joke between Mother and I. Mother had raised me on fairy tales, and I had always said that they reminded me of her, as she looked so like the beautiful heroines in the story. This gift meant more to me than anything else, as Mother had made sure I would constantly remember her during my long years without her at the convent. Now she would be real to me in the stories that she had given me.
Despite myself, a tear rolled down my cheek, and I knew that several more were destined to follow. I inwardly scolded myself for all the petty tears that I had shed today, and just after I had finally convinced myself to stop crying, mainly because of Sister Adelè's presence, I felt something else in the bag.
As I pulled it out, I wondered how I could not have noticed it before, for it was inches thick. Designed as a journal, the little, yet thick, book was simply bounded and filled with common paper. I expected it to be for me to keep a diary of sorts of life in convent school, but when I opened it, it said this:
My dearest Gretchen,
I hope that this message finds you on your way to the Convent of Carronsburgh. Although I know that you do not wish to go, we both know~ yes, you know you do somewhere deep inside~ that it is for the best. Darling, you do not know how much I hate to give you up for a few years, but I think you got an idea from our good-bye.
After that introduction, I will state the real reason that I gave you this journal. You may suspect that this is for you to state your life over the years that you will stay at the convent, but it is not. My dearest, this is a magic book. With it, you and I can write to each other, just like in letters, except the message will get to the other immediately, as will the response. I sent the fairy tale book to you to think of me, and with this book you will be able to talk to me just as if I was right there with you. If you want, we can ever so often work out a time when we both will be there and have an actual conversation through writing. Well dear, have a good time at the convent, remember what I instructed you on, and never forget that I love you with all my heart.
Love,
Mother
Ps~ I know that this book is rather large, but that is to hold the tremendous amount of writing I know you'll write. If you want to make it smaller for traveling or hiding purposes, just say, "inemsu ottweh ihmah" and it will change size to whatever you desire. Whatever you do, take this book with you everywhere, and write often!
I looked up, amazed. Then I read it again. Excited as I was that I would be able to feel almost as if I had never left Mother, I had to wonder how she had gotten a magic book, and known words to make it smaller or larger, as if it wasn't large enough. Confusing myself too much, I followed Sister Adelè's "advice" and went to sleep, but only after reading the first story of my book, saving the others, to spread them out over my first few nights in Carronsburgh, which I suspected to be very lonely.
Author's Note: Thanks and kudo bars to everyone who took the time to read this! I'll post some more of it a little later! To read the story behind this story, go to my profile! Thanks for reading!
