Disclaimer: Passions is owned by NBC, and a lot of other rich people who are not me. Besides, if I did own it, it would be over by now.
Story's Beginning
By Lizka
Once upon a time, there was a girl who loved a young man beyond all reason. To her, it didn't matter that he was the magistrate's son, that her family were poor farmers, or that the young man had been courting the daughter of another prominent family for years. The girl knew that the young man would be the only one that she could ever truly love.
Then one day, he loved her back.
The announcement of their betrothal caused much hurt and anger, particularly from the other girl and her family, but the two lovers stood firm, and eventually, all parties learned to accept the fact that the two would be wed. The situation was not ideal, though. The girl felt guilty for causing the other girl's pain, the other girl still loved the young man, and the young man still cared for his first love, despite his feelings for his new betrothed.
No, the situation was not ideal, but the young man and the girl's love was so strong that they felt that they could withstand anything. Their souls were destined to be together, the girl would say. It was fate.
The wedding was to be held in the spring.
The rumours surrounding Tabitha Lennox were terrible and numerous, so when she was finally tried for witchcraft, the entire town felt no surprise. They had always mistrusted the old woman and the little manikin that she would always carry around with her. Burning her gave them a sense of satisfaction, and they went home knowing that they had done God's will. All tried not to think of Tabitha's final words, though none succeeded.
The young man himself had trouble sleeping that night. His mind was haunted by the horrific sight of Tabitha being put to flame. The witch had deserved it, he told himself. She had caused mischief in their village for years, and had enslaved men for sport. He remembered the witch's parting words, and a cold shiver ran down his back. In ridding themselves of one nuisance, they may have gained untold years of unhappiness. Valiantly, he turned his thoughts to his beloved, how he cared for her as he had for no other person, and slept fitfully.
For a while, life continued as it did before throughout the village, and all was well. The girl happily planned for wedded life, and the young man counted the days until the spring. They both ignored the underlying fear that quietly consumed their village. A witch had been found, and yes, they had burned her, but who was to say that there had only been one? Neighbours began to look at each other in distrust. People who had known each other for years acted as if they were strangers. The whispers began.
At first, it was limited to a single family, the family of the girl the young man had scorned. Then, it spread to the young man's parents, and soon, it was over the whole village. People remembered the young man's previous devotion to the first girl and wondered what could have made him turn from her. The courtship of his soon-to-be wife had been sudden, abrupt, and the young man adored his betrothed with such passion that it bordered on worship. Witchcraft, the people began to whisper. She enslaved the magistrate's son. Witchcraft.
The girl's family heard the whispers and begged her to be more discreet, more somber and sedate, but the girl's head was too full of love. Try as she might but her feet always seemed on the verge of dancing, her voice on the verge of laughing. The girl's family shook their heads in fear, and the mother wept when her eldest daughter was taken away.
The hall was full of yelling, as the men proclaimed that the girl had come to them in the night to ignite their passions, and the women shouted that they had seen the girl dancing in the fields at night. Prudence Standish declared that the girl was innocent, but few paid much attention to her as Prudence was prone to having strange fits.
"Witch!" the people screamed, and the girl was sentenced to die at the stake within a week, on the day she was to have been wed.
The young man came to her the night before the burning. "We're taking you away," he whispered. He and the girl's two surviving brothers freed her, and spirited her away in the darkness while the village slept. They had arranged passage on a ship, so the girl could start her life anew.
"Come with me," the girl begged. Her heart was broken when the young man said no.
He had duties in the village, he told her. He was the eldest son, and could not leave.
They both knew, though, his real reason. Since Tabitha's death, a small fingerling of doubt had entered the boy's heart. It grew over the months and finally consumed him during the trial despite all he could do to stop it. Never again would he trust her as he did before.
The girl hugged her brothers goodbye, and she and the young man kissed in parting. They watched each other slowly grow smaller as the ship sailed into the horizon.
The young man returned to his village and managed to keep the girl's family from being persecuted by the other villagers. In a year's time, he married his first love, and they were blessed with a child the following spring. The girl found new life in Europe, but was never seen in Harmony again.
This, however, is not the story's end. It is the beginning. The young man, the girl, and the first love met again and again throughout the centuries, drawn to each other by ties of love and magic. Sometimes the girl and the young man married, sometimes they didn't. Sometimes the young man never parted from his first love, sometimes he did. Sometimes the three fought for years and each died alone.
A curse can manifest itself in many different ways, and this is one of them. For this is a story of a girl who would always feel the pull of fate far too strongly, of another girl who will never truly let go, and of a young man who, in the end, could only love either with half a heart.