Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.
Town of Nest Hardings,
Munch Territory
The two teenagers rushed home, one carrying a newspaper they'd picked up at the small general store.
"Mama! Mama!"
Melena Thropp looked up from her baking, tossing a mahoghany curl out of her face as she entered the llving area. Her two children were wild eyed and excited. Nessa, who still wore her hair in braids, despite it being improper for a young woman of seventeen to do so, snatched the newspaper out of her brother's hands.
"Hey! That's not fair!"
Shell, at only fifteen, was only a few inches taller than Nessa, with thick black hair and striking dark eyes. So like- She shook her head, no, she wouldn't think of her. It was too painful, remembering the daughter she'd lost nearly seven years before in a raid on their wagon train back in the Thousand Year Grasslands. She was most likely dead by now, anyway.
"Hush both of you." Her voice was quiet, but commanding. She turned to Nessa. "What is it, Nessarose?"
The teenager unfolded the paper, as her brother bounced on the balls of his feet. "They found her, Mama! They found her! They finally found her!"
A brief flicker of hope started in Melena's chest, before she quickly squashed it, returning to the kitchen as they followed. "Found who, Shell?" She didn't dare say her name, and dreaded hearing it come from her son's lips.
"Elia! They finally found Sophelia! She was living with the indians, Mama! For seven years!"
Her heart broke at the sound of her oldest daughter's name, but she forced herself to remain calm. "That can't be true, Shell. It's not possible."
"But it is, Mama! Remember when they found Glinda Upland and the others?"
"Shell, Glinda Upland and the other captives were found scalped. They were murdered after being taken." She swallowed thickly, her voice breaking. Just like my baby girl.
The boy shook his head. "Not Elia, Mama! Listen! Go on, Nessa! Read it!"
A moment passed, before the girl did as told, her voice filled with excitement. "'It has been discovered that a white girl has been held captive by a tribe or Arjiki indians. Sophelia Thropp, taken in a raid back in eighteen-hundred-fifty-six, was discovered by scouts to have been living with her captors, the Arjiki, in a village within the Thousand Year Grasslands. The raid, which took place a week ago, was successful in securing the release of Miss Thropp from her captivity. Being held at Fort Restwater, Miss Thropp was discovered to have been dressed in animal skins, her hair in braids, and with the most curious diamond tattoos that start at her shoulders and go all the way down her back to her buttocks. She appeared to speak only Arjiki and had no knowledge of the ways of civilized society, refusing the dress and shoes given to her by one of the wives of an officer at the fort."
Melena slowly sank into a chair at the kitchen table. It certainly sounded like they had found her daughter, but any white girl could come in and say she was Sophelia and no one would know the difference, certainly not an officer.
"... Miss Thropp is to be returned to her family within the week, and hopefully, she will soon forget her whole terrible ordeal.' Oh, Mama, isn't it wonderful? Mama?"
Their mother slowly looked up, tears in her eyes. "Mama, what's wrong?" She asked, sitting beside her. "Aren't you happy? They finally found Elia. She's coming home. Papa's gone to get her."
Slowly, Melena wiped the tears off her cheeks. "How does an officer really know that it is her? How do they know that's Elia? It could be someone else-"
"Papa will know. Papa's never forgotten what Elia looks like. He'll know as soon as he sees her." Nessa cut her mother off, joining them at the table. A moment passed, before Melena reached out, tugging the paper towards her. Across the top, in bold, black lettering were the words,
THROPP GIRL FOUND!
She sincerely hoped it was true.
Of all of them, Melena had suffered the most after Sophelia's capture. She was closest to her oldest, and not having made it to her in time that long ago day in the Thousand Year Grasslands ate away at the mother of three, for she blamed herself for Sophelia being taken that day. If she'd been paying more attention, had insisted she walk with her and her brother and sister instead of allowing her to ride with her father, like she'd intended, maybe she would still be here.
She certainly wouldn't have been found living with some savages after seven years, if the story was true and the headline to be believed.
After the other captives had been found at the Scrow camp- after a raid had been carried out to save them- and the scalps had been found, Melena had prayed that Sophelia was not among them. She had been so relieved to learn that there was no set of black braids among the scalps, but worried as well. If she had not been scalped as the others had, then where was her daughter?
A person did not just vanish off the face of the earth after being captured in a raid on a wagon train. Apparently, of the story was true, she had been sold to the Arjiki as a captive and forced to live among them for seven years.
After a moment, she got up, going to the window. "Mama?" But she ignored Nessa, lost in thought.
They had made a space for her in this house Frexpar had built, not long after they arrived and chose their plot of land. She had made a quilt for her bed, and kept it in the hope chest that had come with them, waiting for the day she could give it to her oldest daughter. She wrapped her arms around herself. She had prayed for news like this, for seven years. And finally, her prayers had been answered.
Her daughter was coming home.