Rifiuto: Non Miriena
A/N: Written: 2012. Rewritten: 2014. Found: 2018.- Licia
Town of Nest Hardings,
Munch Territory,
Thropp Household,
Day Two
The soft whistle of the wind as it blew through the wheat field was doing all it could to lull her to sleep as she sat on the porch step, the family bible in her lap. Over the last seven years, she had turned to the words within the worn covers, seeking comfort, in the hopes that they would give her some insight into where her sister had disappeared too that long ago day in the Thousand Year Grasslands.
But no matter how many times she flipped through the pages, no matter how many verses or parables she read, she could make neither heads nor tails of the mystery. So she had taken instead to writing down the family tree on the inside front cover, in order to pass the time. The bible had been her great-great-great-great-grandmother's, and every birth and death had been kept within its pages. The names of Thropp family members danced along the margins and covers; Partra, Fenvu, Peerless, Impecata... name after name after name, some dying old, some young. But all members of the adventurous, independent Thropp clan.
Nervously, she twirled the quill pen between her fingers, the tips become stained black. Teeth slid out to grasp her lower lip, and she lifted her head briefly, braids shifting along her back. Her sister was out among the fields, wandering barefoot, head uncovered and long black hair down around her shoulders. She'd been forced into another dress that morning, though there had been less of a fight than the day before. Maybe she was finally starting to come around.
One could hope.
Sighing, she turned back to the bible. Open to the cover, she let her gaze wander down the list of names before they rested upon her and her siblings. A part of her wanted to jot down a name beside Sophelia's-
Fiyero
The name drifted within her head like a ship out to sea, beckoning her to approach. It was the name she'd heard her sister cry out in her sleep early this morning, before the dawn broke over the horizon, casting the world in her soft white light. Unable to sleep, she'd gotten up and gone downstairs for a drink of water. It was on the way back that she'd stopped by her sister's room, pressed her ear to the door, and been surprised to hear sobbing coming from within. She'd reached for the doorknob, but stopped, upon hearing a name escape her sister's lips.
Fiyero
It had wrenched at her heart, and she'd frozen. Though she hadn't understood what was said after, she knew the tone, the heartbreak, the pain. It was what she had felt when her sister had been taken those seven years prior, on the nights when nightmares would wake her, her sister's screams echoing in her head.
She looked back up, the wind picked up slightly, lifting the strands of her sister's hair from her shoulders. The older girl wandered aimlessly among the wheat, fingers trailing over stocks as she went, feet soft in the dirt, gaze directed to the ground, as though lost in thought. But she had an inkling of what was really going on in that mind- pain, heartache, fear. And the replaying of her capture over and over again. Nessa knew it all too well. For though she hadn't been the one captured, she'd watched in horror as her sister had been snatched from them that day-
"No! Elia! Come back! Don't leave me! Elia!"
She'd scrambled out from under the wagon as soon as it looked clear, despite Mama and Shell's attempts to hold her back, and rushed after the raid party, but to no avail. By the time she'd reached the outskirts of the carnage that was the wagon train, they were gone, taking her beloved older sister with them.
Her gaze darted back to the bible in her lap, and she lowered the pen. If she chose to, four names would need to be added.
Fiyero. Irji. Nor. Manek.
She'd heard her sister cry out for the last three not long after crying out for Fiyero, but hadn't been able to put the pieces together. So that morning, she'd asked Tibbett who they were, and he'd informed her that Irji, Nor and Manek were her sister's children.
Children.
Her sister had had children. Her sister had given birth, three times in the last seven years. She had allowed a savage to lay with her, to take her virtue and purity, and in return, become impregnated with his children. Her belly had expanded with each growing child, until her small, petite body had decided it was time for each to enter the world.
Biting harder on her lip, she shut the book and stood, going back into the house and hurrying upstairs to her room. Once the door was shut behind her, she set the book on the nightstand and then took a seat on the bed. Her hands moved to caress her midsection, and she closed her eyes, releasing a slow breath.
When had her pains started? How long had they lasted? How many hours had she endured before each child came into the world? Had it been terribly bloody? And once born, had she held each immediately? And how had she reacted?
How any mother probably reacts, with love.
She curled up on the bed, this revelation near stalling her heart. Love? Could her sister really love the savage children she bore? That would mean-
No.
She sniffled, tears coming to her eyes as she realized what she'd been trying so hard to deny since her sister had been found and returned to them.
A child is made from love, and only love, as Mama was fond of saying.
Fresh tears slid down her cheeks as the realization hit.
Three children.
Despite the two worlds their parents came from, they were created from the same thing she and her siblings were made from- love.
She buried her face in her pillow as she suddenly understood that her sister's captivity had been anything but. That the children Tibbett had told her of were not just the half-breed children of a savage and a white, but children made very, very much, from love.