Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who read my stuff already, and kudos bars to everyone who reviewed them! Thanks, guys! Keep readin and reviewin! ~Jenny the chica~
Chapter Two: In which a courageous choice is made...
The wedding ended far to late, yet far too soon. Celia and her family nearly collapsed after the honeymooners were out of sight. Although she was dying to know what was wrong, Celia decided it best to rest and recuperate before she pressed Papa for the answer. The doubts and fears of possible answers flooded her mind and dreams, and she awoke many times that night in an icy sweat, still vividly imagining the dangers and perils her family might be in.
Daylight finally rescued her from her terror, and she managed to sleep a little. Anxious for answers, however, she went to the library as soon as she got up and shakily dressed.
Papa was always in the library, for it was what he missed most about the years of poverty. After nearly a year, he was still found in the cozy atmosphere that he had missed so. Celia saw him in the huge armchair, reading, of course, though he had a troubled look on his face. Celia stood in the doorway for what seemed an eternity before daring to interrupt the serenity with a single footstep.
Papa's head jerked up so suddenly that Celia nearly fell back a step. His terrified expression was instantly eased when he recognized his daughter, but confusion must have been written all over her face, for she could almost feel his deep concern as his smile turned to an uneasy anxiety.
"What is the matter?" he inquired. "Celia, you're not hurt or frightened, or anything, are you? It's not like you to worry so."
Celia rushed across the room, collapsing at her father's feet. "Papa, Papa..." she repeated almost endlessly, in a whisper, but tears had begun to course down her cheeks, and they were soon flowing freely.
"Papa," she finally said after many attempts to find her voice, "I need to know what is going on in our home. Everyone is acting so strange, Papa! Why am I never alone? Why am I never out of anyone's arm reach, let alone their sight? Papa, please tell me, whatever you've been hiding, I can't bear it anymore, and you would never believe all the things that I thought it could be, but I can't take any more moments of not knowing! Papa, whatever is wrong, you know that you can tell me. Papa, please." She ended in nearly a whisper, a faint, pleading whisper.
Celia had bowed her head into her father's lap while she said this, but she forced herself to look up, only to find tears as steady as hers slipping down his cheeks.
"Celia, I cannot hide it from you any longer," he finally managed. "We had all hoped that we could keep you safe from this, but in our hearts we knew that it was impossible."
"What's impossible, Papa? Why did you all hide something from me? Does everyone else but me know of this?" she begged.
Papa simply nodded his shaggy gray head.
"Even Mother and Bridget and Elisabeth?"
Again, the nod.
It was Celia's turn to nod this time, but to herself. She looked up to her father once again, giving him time to begin the story.
"This will clear up more mysteries than you probably thought possible," he began. "When I was returning from my last trip, a once-again rich man, somehow some bandits had heard of my good fortune, as well as my route home. I had scarcely left sight of the town, it seemed, when a whole band of them attacked my cart. I was thrown off, and they searched it, but I had brought nothing but myself and the cart, after having moved most things into the house.
"The bandits, not content to go away empty-handed, attempted to take my life, so I could never speak against them"-here Celia gave out a little gasp, before clamping her hand over her mouth and urging Papa to go on.
"Well, I had thought all was lost when a sudden mighty roar was heard. The bandits had fled before I got so much as a glimpse of the source: a giant white bear. Naturally, I was absolutely terrified, for I was in even worse hands, er, paws, than I had been before.
"I leaned against a tree, prepared to meet my Maker, when the bear went down on all fours once more, and began to approach me. I shuddered, but then the beast began to speak:
'Sir, I will not harm you,' he said, 'but as repayment for my service on your life, I would like to ask one favor of you.'
'Anything!' I had foolishly replied. 'If it is in my power to give, I will.'
'Give me that which first greets you when you return home,' he replied, 'and I will come to claim within a year's time. If you choose not to give me this, I will take your own life!'
'I promise,' I stupidly said, for I had thought, _The dog or the simple flock of geese has always greeted me. What harm will it do to me if I give one of them up?_
'Yes, good sir,' I continued, 'On my honor, I will give you within a year's time what first greets me on my return home.'
"With that, the bear had simply disappeared. Eager to finish my journey, I rode briskly home, imagining the overjoyed faces of my family when I told them of our sudden change in fortune.
"I had nearly rounded the bend near our cottage when I glimpsed you, dearest Celia, running towards me. I clung to the vain hope that something else would reach me first, but nothing did.
"Child, that is why you have been under guard for all this time. We have all tried to protect you from this monster, and we will still defend you till the last. So help us, but you will never be given to that beast!"
"Papa," Celia said forcefully, trying to keep any more tears from slipping from her eyes, "whatever happens, I will not allow you to give your life just to keep me from this...thing! How could you even dream that I'd allow such a thing? It would be utterly useless, a life wasted for no reason at all! You still have a family to care for Papa, but I have nothing. You are in no position to offer your life for mine, however much you may think you should!"
"Celia!" Papa thundered. "What kind of person do you think I am, to allow you to be handed over to this monster? I love you too much to ever allow you to even think--"
"I know you do, Papa, but that is why I must do this!" Celia interrupted. "He never said he would kill me, but he assured it if you refused! Why waste an innocent life just because--"
"No! I said no! Celia, you are never going to belong to some creature, not if there is another choice! That is what I say, and that is final! The year is almost up, and I am an old man. You are still young, so treasure your years and live a good and healthy life…with humans!"
"Papa-"
"No! I said no! Your brothers and I will continue to watch over you until the year is over, and your brothers will continue after that! Now go up to your room, and I don't want you coming our until we are guaranteed of your safety!"
Celia offered one last protest, but her brothers, kind as they were, realized the danger she was in and half-dragged, half-carried her into her room, though she protested their decision the whole way.
Finally locked in her room, Celia realized what she must do. Shivering, but not from the December cold, she took eleven sheets of paper out, along with a quill and inkstand, and began her writing. She did not finish until evening, being occasionally interrupted for meals, which she ate in her room, although joined by her brothers. On such times, she stuffed the papers under her desk, only to bring them out the moment the door shut and she was alone once more.
Most of the sheets were ruined by tears, until the ink smeared, and Celia wrote each one at least a few times.
When she finally finished, it was nearly twilight, and she snuck out her window, only stopping momentarily in the kitchen to fill her traveling bag with food for the journey. She placed each of the good-bye letters on each of her brothers', sisters', and parents' nightstands, after waiting outside until they were asleep.
She was very teary-eyed, but she knew that this is what she had to do. Wiping her runny eyes, she hurried to the stables, mounting her favorite, a golden-chestnut mare named Camille. She mounted silently, and Camille, as if noting the secretive air, did not let out even a whinny.
As Celia galloped off into the distance, in a random direction, she gazed back for one final glance at the house that she had grown up in, been forced out of, then reunited with once more, only to be torn from it once again. The tears could hardly be held back now, but Celia was strong and managed. The knot, however, was back in her stomach, and she realized that sometimes it is nearly as bad to know something as it is to live in constant curiosity and worries.
A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!! GEESE!!!! Sorry...stupid inside joke! LONG LIVE CHARLOTTE, NC!!!!
Chapter Two: In which a courageous choice is made...
The wedding ended far to late, yet far too soon. Celia and her family nearly collapsed after the honeymooners were out of sight. Although she was dying to know what was wrong, Celia decided it best to rest and recuperate before she pressed Papa for the answer. The doubts and fears of possible answers flooded her mind and dreams, and she awoke many times that night in an icy sweat, still vividly imagining the dangers and perils her family might be in.
Daylight finally rescued her from her terror, and she managed to sleep a little. Anxious for answers, however, she went to the library as soon as she got up and shakily dressed.
Papa was always in the library, for it was what he missed most about the years of poverty. After nearly a year, he was still found in the cozy atmosphere that he had missed so. Celia saw him in the huge armchair, reading, of course, though he had a troubled look on his face. Celia stood in the doorway for what seemed an eternity before daring to interrupt the serenity with a single footstep.
Papa's head jerked up so suddenly that Celia nearly fell back a step. His terrified expression was instantly eased when he recognized his daughter, but confusion must have been written all over her face, for she could almost feel his deep concern as his smile turned to an uneasy anxiety.
"What is the matter?" he inquired. "Celia, you're not hurt or frightened, or anything, are you? It's not like you to worry so."
Celia rushed across the room, collapsing at her father's feet. "Papa, Papa..." she repeated almost endlessly, in a whisper, but tears had begun to course down her cheeks, and they were soon flowing freely.
"Papa," she finally said after many attempts to find her voice, "I need to know what is going on in our home. Everyone is acting so strange, Papa! Why am I never alone? Why am I never out of anyone's arm reach, let alone their sight? Papa, please tell me, whatever you've been hiding, I can't bear it anymore, and you would never believe all the things that I thought it could be, but I can't take any more moments of not knowing! Papa, whatever is wrong, you know that you can tell me. Papa, please." She ended in nearly a whisper, a faint, pleading whisper.
Celia had bowed her head into her father's lap while she said this, but she forced herself to look up, only to find tears as steady as hers slipping down his cheeks.
"Celia, I cannot hide it from you any longer," he finally managed. "We had all hoped that we could keep you safe from this, but in our hearts we knew that it was impossible."
"What's impossible, Papa? Why did you all hide something from me? Does everyone else but me know of this?" she begged.
Papa simply nodded his shaggy gray head.
"Even Mother and Bridget and Elisabeth?"
Again, the nod.
It was Celia's turn to nod this time, but to herself. She looked up to her father once again, giving him time to begin the story.
"This will clear up more mysteries than you probably thought possible," he began. "When I was returning from my last trip, a once-again rich man, somehow some bandits had heard of my good fortune, as well as my route home. I had scarcely left sight of the town, it seemed, when a whole band of them attacked my cart. I was thrown off, and they searched it, but I had brought nothing but myself and the cart, after having moved most things into the house.
"The bandits, not content to go away empty-handed, attempted to take my life, so I could never speak against them"-here Celia gave out a little gasp, before clamping her hand over her mouth and urging Papa to go on.
"Well, I had thought all was lost when a sudden mighty roar was heard. The bandits had fled before I got so much as a glimpse of the source: a giant white bear. Naturally, I was absolutely terrified, for I was in even worse hands, er, paws, than I had been before.
"I leaned against a tree, prepared to meet my Maker, when the bear went down on all fours once more, and began to approach me. I shuddered, but then the beast began to speak:
'Sir, I will not harm you,' he said, 'but as repayment for my service on your life, I would like to ask one favor of you.'
'Anything!' I had foolishly replied. 'If it is in my power to give, I will.'
'Give me that which first greets you when you return home,' he replied, 'and I will come to claim within a year's time. If you choose not to give me this, I will take your own life!'
'I promise,' I stupidly said, for I had thought, _The dog or the simple flock of geese has always greeted me. What harm will it do to me if I give one of them up?_
'Yes, good sir,' I continued, 'On my honor, I will give you within a year's time what first greets me on my return home.'
"With that, the bear had simply disappeared. Eager to finish my journey, I rode briskly home, imagining the overjoyed faces of my family when I told them of our sudden change in fortune.
"I had nearly rounded the bend near our cottage when I glimpsed you, dearest Celia, running towards me. I clung to the vain hope that something else would reach me first, but nothing did.
"Child, that is why you have been under guard for all this time. We have all tried to protect you from this monster, and we will still defend you till the last. So help us, but you will never be given to that beast!"
"Papa," Celia said forcefully, trying to keep any more tears from slipping from her eyes, "whatever happens, I will not allow you to give your life just to keep me from this...thing! How could you even dream that I'd allow such a thing? It would be utterly useless, a life wasted for no reason at all! You still have a family to care for Papa, but I have nothing. You are in no position to offer your life for mine, however much you may think you should!"
"Celia!" Papa thundered. "What kind of person do you think I am, to allow you to be handed over to this monster? I love you too much to ever allow you to even think--"
"I know you do, Papa, but that is why I must do this!" Celia interrupted. "He never said he would kill me, but he assured it if you refused! Why waste an innocent life just because--"
"No! I said no! Celia, you are never going to belong to some creature, not if there is another choice! That is what I say, and that is final! The year is almost up, and I am an old man. You are still young, so treasure your years and live a good and healthy life…with humans!"
"Papa-"
"No! I said no! Your brothers and I will continue to watch over you until the year is over, and your brothers will continue after that! Now go up to your room, and I don't want you coming our until we are guaranteed of your safety!"
Celia offered one last protest, but her brothers, kind as they were, realized the danger she was in and half-dragged, half-carried her into her room, though she protested their decision the whole way.
Finally locked in her room, Celia realized what she must do. Shivering, but not from the December cold, she took eleven sheets of paper out, along with a quill and inkstand, and began her writing. She did not finish until evening, being occasionally interrupted for meals, which she ate in her room, although joined by her brothers. On such times, she stuffed the papers under her desk, only to bring them out the moment the door shut and she was alone once more.
Most of the sheets were ruined by tears, until the ink smeared, and Celia wrote each one at least a few times.
When she finally finished, it was nearly twilight, and she snuck out her window, only stopping momentarily in the kitchen to fill her traveling bag with food for the journey. She placed each of the good-bye letters on each of her brothers', sisters', and parents' nightstands, after waiting outside until they were asleep.
She was very teary-eyed, but she knew that this is what she had to do. Wiping her runny eyes, she hurried to the stables, mounting her favorite, a golden-chestnut mare named Camille. She mounted silently, and Camille, as if noting the secretive air, did not let out even a whinny.
As Celia galloped off into the distance, in a random direction, she gazed back for one final glance at the house that she had grown up in, been forced out of, then reunited with once more, only to be torn from it once again. The tears could hardly be held back now, but Celia was strong and managed. The knot, however, was back in her stomach, and she realized that sometimes it is nearly as bad to know something as it is to live in constant curiosity and worries.
A/N: Aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh!!! GEESE!!!! Sorry...stupid inside joke! LONG LIVE CHARLOTTE, NC!!!!