Chapter 2

Always smile. It makes people wonder what you're up to – Anonymous

I'm eighteen years old, and I'm the oldest of four children. Briac is twelve, Rowena is ten, and my youngest sister, Aisling, is five. My mother died giving birth to her.

Oh, excuse my rudeness. I suppose I should introduce myself. My name is Adara. It means "Beauty", and quite frankly it's a lie. It would have suited Rowena far better than it suits me.

It's not that I blame my parents for naming me that. After all, they had every right to assume that they would have a pretty daughter or a handsome son. My mother was beautiful. She had lovely blond hair with natural curls, and she had beautiful sky-blue eyes and such a pretty face… my father is rather handsome as well. He's tall with dark brown hair and friendly green eyes.

So, with such lovely parents, it would only make sense that the children would be lovely as well. And most of them are. All of my siblings have my mother's lovely blond hair and blue eyes, though Aisling also has freckles and dimples. But the beauty seemed to skip over me. I suppose if I had to compare each of us to animals, my siblings would all be prize-winning fair horses and I'd be the ugly pony in the corner being ridden by angry obese children.

I have plain brown hair that tangles like cheap yarn. My eyes are green, but they aren't the lovely green that my father has. They're pea soup green. I'm also too tall and I have feet large enough to paddle me across an ocean. I also have about as much poise and grace as a watering can…

I suppose it could be worse, though. If I were pretty, I'd end up getting married to some bloke who thinks like a ferret and smells even worse.

Of course, marriage would save me from my family… with my mother dead and my father working all of the time, I have to look after the other three children because I am the oldest. Rowena takes this to mean that I'm her maid. Briac tries to help me from time to time, but anything that depends on his eyes gives him a headache. He needs glasses, but they are very, very expensive and we'll probably never be able to afford them.

We were rich once, when I was six or seven years old… but then father made a bet, and we lost our fortune. I'm not sure of the details; father never speaks of it. He's rather ashamed, I think, because now none of his children had a chance to go on trips or live the life of luxury and all that lovely stuff.

Or, at least, that's what we thought.

-

I remember that day as if it were yesterday; the day a letter came. I was washing dishes at the time. Actually… I was always washing dishes. Anyways, a man came to the door and was knocking like a crazed woodpecker. I barely had time to turn my head before he had quickened the intensity and volume of his knocking.

"Yes, yes, keep knocking. You're ever so important, you shouldn't have to wait one more second…" I muttered as I dried off my hands.

The walls of our house were thin. I was sure that he heard my comments. My suspicions were confirmed when I opened the door and his face was red with embarrassment and exertion. He held out his hand, showing off a white envelope.

"I… er… have a letter."

"I can see that." I muttered, taking in from him. "Is this it, or is there more?"

"That's it." He replied.

"Then good day to you." I said stiffly, closing the door in his face.

"Who was that?" Rowena asked. Instead of helping me, she was busily sitting at the window in the kitchen and staring at herself in the mirror, turning her face this way and that in an attempt to… actually, I have no idea what she was doing.

"No one important." I replied, locking the door and throwing the letter on the table. "Now, will you get your face out of that mirror and dry some of the dishes?"

"Must I? My birthday is only a month away, and I'm trying to see what makes me look the best." She retorted, taking a hand full of curls and holding it up. "Do you think I should try a new hairstyle?"

I flicked some soapy water at her, sighing as the fat bubbles lodging themselves in her hair. "There's your new hairstyle. Now get off of your rump and help me." I snapped, using my wrist to brush a lock of my own long dark hair from my face.

She stared at me, sticking out her tongue. "You're just angry because you're ugly and you know it."

Just because it was true didn't mean I was going to let her lay around all day. "I said get off your rump."

She stuck out her tongue again.

"Do that again and I'll cut your tongue out!" I barked, pulling the butchering knife from the soapy water. "I mean it!"

She stuck her tongue out further.

"That's it, you little wench!" I screamed, running at her.

"Old maid!" she shouted back, holding a butter knife up as protection.

"That's enough!" Briac yelled, dashing down the stairs. He squinted his eyes as he glared at Rowena and I. "What is it with you women?"

"Why don't you ask Adara?" Rowena muttered.

"Because you're the one he should be asking." I hissed, cracking my knuckles.

"Maybe if you got off your arse and did something once and a while-" Briac was saying.

"Oh, not that again!" Rowena shrieked, plugging her ears. "If you keep cracking your knuckles you'll have man hands. You're disgusting!"

"I'll show you disgust-"

My retort was cut off by a sharp shriek. I moaned, glancing towards the back room. Aisling had woken up.

"Great. Now see what you did?" I mumbled, wiping my hands on my skirt and pushing past Rowena to get to Aisling. "Sometimes I really despise you, Rowena."

"There you go, using your big words that no one understands!" she snapped back, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Despise is common English. You're just an idiot."

"Shut up, you two!" Briac shouted, accompanied by another shriek from Aisling.

"Fine. I have to go shut Aisling up anyways." I muttered, making my way to the room that Rowena and I shared with Aisling. "Go ahead, try new hairstyles. Brush your hair until it falls out."

"Maybe I will!"

My entire body sagged when I came through the doorway of my room. I was exhausted, and seeing my bed in the corner of the room only intensified the fatigue.

"Adara!" Aisling sobbed, waving at me from her bed. "They waked me up with their loud noises!"

"I know, I know." I sighed, lifting her to my shoulder. If I could get her back to sleep, I could finish the dishes and maybe have a little nap… "Are you still tired?"

"No."

I sighed. "Are you sure? It's really tiresome in the kitchen, you wouldn't be missing anything … and you really should finish your nap…"

"I'm not tired!"

"Okay, alright…" I yawnedI was the only one in the house in need of a nap. "Okay then… do you want to help me make the bread?"

"Yes, yes! I wants to roll the dough!" she clapped her hands happily.

"Alright… let's go, then."

-

That night, when father came home, I was fast asleep. I had finished all of my housework with Briac's help, and I was exhausted. The only thing that woke me up was the sound of Aisling breathing on me. I hated to open my eyes, but she was starting to drool…

"Hello, Adara!" she beamed.

"Hello." I replied, rolling myself out of bed and lifting Aisling onto my hip. I left my room and found my way into the hallway. Briac was leaning against the wall, holding the letter from earlier that day.

"Where's father?" I asked. "Is he home?"

"He went to check on the chickens." Briac replied. "And Rowena started supper for you."

"Really? Why?"

"Because I threatened to shave her head while she slept if she didn't." He said, handing me the letter. "He'll be back any moment now."

"I think you have the right idea on how to handle that girl…" I yawned. I walked into the kitchen, where Rowena was stirring something in a large pot.

"What's that?" Aisling asked, pointing to the pot.

"It looks like dishwater and smells worse." I commented.

"It's chicken broth." She snapped.

"Oh…" I cleared my throat and set Aisling on a kitchen chair. "Would you like some help with that?"

"No."

"Are you sure?" I looked into the broth and wrinkled my nose. "If I act now, I might just be able to rescue it-"

"Why don't you just set the table?" Rowena hissed.

"Fine." I replied, shrugging as I turned away. "You don't have to be so miserable..."

"You and your big words!" she muttered. "Why can't you just be normal?"

"Why can't you just learn to read?" I replied dryly. "It would give you something to do, other than… whatever you do with that mirror."

"I can read!" she retorted. "Just… not very well…"

"What in the name of all that is holy is that smell?" Briac asked, walking into the kitchen. "It smells like ferrets and cheese."

I tried and failed to suppress a chuckle. "It's… ferret broth."

"Chicken broth." Rowena growled.

"I'm bored." Aisling pouted, demanding attention. "Let's play a game."

I went through the dishes I'd left drying earlier and started to set the table. "No, not now. How about I tell you a story instead?"

"No! I wanna play! I wanna play! I wanna play a fun game!"

"Shut her up or I'm going to snap…" Rowena muttered,

At that moment, father walked in.

"Hello, Adara." He said, ruffling my hair as he had since I was three years old (which I had hated since I was three years old and had vocalized numerous times). "How was your day?"

"Exhausting." I answered truthfully.

"Magnificent!" he said, ignoring me. "How about I take Aisling from you, and you have a rest?"

Bless him! I thought, bless him, oblivious simpleton that he is… "That would be-"

"Dinner is served!" Rowena said, her voice gushy and sweet as it always was in father's presence. "I made it all by myself."

"Splendid!" he replied, proving that I wasn't the only one in the world who loved big words. "Simply fantastic! Let's eat…"

"It's chicken broth, and it smells grand. You'll love it." Rowena assured him, taking his arm and leading him to the table.

"Wait, father!" I said, handing him the letter. "Someone brought this."

He took the letter from me, asking, "Do you know what it's for?"

"No idea." I replied. "Will you read it?"

"I will, after supper." He replied. "Come now, something smells absolutely delicious…"

-

Father sat in his chair, leaning back, and his feet up on a stool. His pipe was in his mouth, and his hands were clasped over his stomach.

"Father?" I had to be quiet, because we had just sent Aisling to bed.

"Yes, what is it, Adara?" he muttered.

"You should probably take a look at this letter now." I said, handing it to him. Father is the type who will leave something and forget about it for months, maybe even years if you let him. It's best just to keep nagging him until he finally does what you ask him to.

"The letter? Ah, yes, the letter." He sighed, taking it into his own hands and tearing it open. "It's probably another bill of some sort."

I sighed. "Probably."

Father read the letter. At first his face was relaxed, but then his eyes suddenly grew wider. He smiled suddenly, and threw the letter down with a shout.

"This is amazing! Stupendous! The best thing that could ever have happened to us!" he cried.

Aisling moaned upstairs.

"Shush, father!" I exclaimed. Obviously the stresses of poverty had finally gotten to him. I had heard about this sort of thing from my friends.

"Wake up the other children! This is a celebration!" he ran up the stairs, shouting.

I followed him, but he had already woken Briac and Aisling up. Rowena was waking up on her own.

"Father, stop this madness!" I commanded, running into Aisling's room and glaring at my father as he lifted a tired Aisling from her bed. "I just finished putting these children to bed!"

"I apologise, Adara, really I do, but I have to tell you children what it says in this letter!" he insisted, giving Aisling a light toss that made her giggle.

I sighed. "Fine. Tell us what you see in the letter."

He looked me directly in the eye. "We're still rich!"

-

Cups lay strewn on the table, and the five of us sat around it, our chairs pulled up, our hair dishevelled. The sun was starting to rise, and a pink glow was apparent on the horizon.

"So, tell us, how did this money come to us?" I asked.

"Well it's sad, really, but… apparently, I had second cousin thrice removed or something of that nature, and he died last month." My father chuckled. "I never met the poor bloke, but apparently he was filthy stinking rich and I'm his only relative."

"How would anyone know that?" Briac asked, rubbing his eyes and squinting in the bad light. "If you never met him… how would anyone know we were related?"

Father shrugged, brushing the question aside. "What does it matter? We're rich now!"

"Yes!" Rowena said. "Finally, I can wear gold and jewels and look just as fine as any lady!"

"But how are we to gather this new fortune?" I asked. "We can't exactly pick everything up and take it with us, and we can't leave all of our things behind. We need to live here at least until we make arrangements for a new house."

"I am to collect it!" father replied. "I plan to leave tomorrow. I'll take our horse. Children, tell me, what shall I bring you back, as gifts?"

Rowena's eyes glittered. "I want a fine pearl necklace, and a ruby broach, and a diamond-crested ring, and-"

"I'll see what I can do." Father said, interrupting her. He smiled at Briac. "Briac, what do you want?"

"Well… I would like a glasses, please." Briac said, his voice hopeful. Though he never complained about his near-sighted problems, we all knew how much he suffered, and how he prayed for glasses. "I know that, if I had them and I didn't get headaches so often, I could be much more helpful around the house."

Father laughed. "Of course. You shall have your glasses."

Briac smiled. "Thank you, father."

"Now, Aisling," Father went on, "What shall daddy bring you?"

"Oh, a new doll!" she exclaimed. "And some sugar-candies!"

He smiled, and kissed her rosy cheek. "I will get you your doll and candies." He promised. He turned to me. "Now, Adara, my dear, what would you like?"

"Oh, nothing for me, father." I replied. I glanced at Rowena and then added, "Actually, come to think of it, a new sister would be nice…"

Rowena stared at me, rolled her eyes and stuck out her tongue.

Father chucked. "Come now, Adara, you must want something. You work so hard, and you should be rewarded for your work."

"I don't need anything." I insisted.

He stood firm. "Come on, Adara, tell me what you want. Books, maybe? A broach? Ribbon for your hair? Some new cooking utensils? Tell me, or I'll waste the money on something you hate."

I laughed. "Fine. If you insist on bringing something back for me, bring me a rose." I smiled. "You know how I love roses."

He frowned. "Just a rose? Come now, Adara, your father is a rich man! A rose? That's insulting!"

I smiled. "All I want is a rose." I assured him. "But, when you come back with our fortune, you can buy me more. I promise."

"Alright, then." Father yawned and stretched his arms. "Well, it's high time you children went to bed. I've wasted the whole night talking of gold and other such nonsense. We'll sleep in, and you can help me pack when you wake up. I want to leave early tomorrow morning."

"Are you sure that all you want is a rose, Adara?" father asked as he got up onto his horse. "We really can afford much more now."

I shook my head. "No. If you really must waste your money on someone, waste it on Rowena."

"Oh, yes, please do!" she exclaimed, tying up the last saddlebag.

Father sighed. "Well, when I get back, I'll have plenty of time to waste my money on you, won't I?"

"I suppose." I replied. "Now, ride safely. We'll be praying."

"As will I." He replied, ruffling my hair again and ignoring my pained expression. "Take care of each other. I love you all!"

He started the horse trotting, and we all waved goodbye.

-

So, here's the next chapter. I'm not so sure if I like this one. It was writen in Adara's point of view to begin with, but... meh.

And, just in case you're wondering about all the weird names... I don't know, I just like weird names :)

This chapters song was Concerning Hobbits from the Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring soundtrack