Just before her thirteenth birthday, Morraine discovered the pitfalls of puberty. Becoming a woman was nowhere near as graceful as she thought it would be.
"Ugh, I hate this!" she cursed one morning when she awoke with a bad case of cramps. "Boys don't have to deal with any of this stuff! They don't have to worry about these THINGS," she pointed in dismay at the growing buds on her chest, "getting in the way of everything you try to do, or having a 'monthly visitor'. Gosh, they have it so easy!"
Her father roared with laughter. "Oh Morraine, boys have different challenges at that age, trust me on that one."
Morraine's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "Like what?" she asked.
Her father rubbed his chin and tried to put his thoughts into words delicately. "Well, at that age, things happen to them unexpectedly and outside of their control at inopportune times. And always first thing in the morning."
Intrigued, Morraine opened her mouth to speak, but her father raised his hand.
"And that's all you need to know about that," he interrupted. "You are still too young."
But later that day, her curiosity caused her to ask Baelfire if "something weird" was happening to his body, reiterating the clues her father gave her.
Baelfire blanched. "Yeah, kinda," he squirmed. She received the distinct impression that she was not allowed to question what "something weird" entailed.
"And does it happen at strange times too?" she asked innocently.
He shrugged. "Sometimes it happens around Shelby Smithers. Or Corinne Carothers."
Morraine frowned. Shelby and Corinne were the two prettiest girls in the village. Whatever this thing was, it had to be directly related to beauty.
"You act like an idiot around them," she noted.
Baelfire glared at her and turned away.
"Does it ever happen around me?" Morraine asked hopefully.
Baelfire's eyes widened in terror. He pursed his lips and looked at the ground. "Well … do you ever notice me acting like an idiot around you?"
Morraine's brow furrowed in thought. "No. Not like with them."
Baelfire exhaled quickly and grinned. "Then there's your answer."
While Baelfire returned to his normal, happy self, Morraine was heart-broken. It didn't happen around her? Then Baelfire must not think she was pretty! To him she was just another friend, albeit a best friend – completely androgenous.
Her mother noticed her melancholy, and correctly ascertained its source.
"Honey, boys mature a lot slower than girls," she explained, "not just physically but emotionally. They don't understand what they are going through, especially at the age of 13."
"But I don't understand what I'M going through!" Morraine bemoaned.
Her mother smiled. "Exactly. And you're more self aware than Baelfire is."
Morraine blushed at the mention of his name. Her mother was no fool.
Two evenings before her fourteenth birthday, Morraine climbed the ladder to her loft after a hot bath. Her parents were across the road at her father's wood shop. They had been acting strangely lately, very snappish, and she was happy she could bathe in peace. Her thoughts of being taken away for battle were bad enough without the added burden of having to assuage her parents' fears.
She sat at her vanity table and looked in her mirror as she combed her wet hair. She gasped when she noticed the amount of cleavage showing through her robe; where had THAT come from? She derobed and assessed her changing figure in the mirror. She felt like a monster with all these hideous curves. She made a face and quickly threw her nightgown over her head.
An almost inhuman howl outside her window startled her. It sounded like her father; she'd never heard him that cross before. She turned toward the window and saw a flash of movement in Baelfire's room. She opened her window and heard a crash coming from the house. She stuck her head outside and craned her neck as she watched Baelfire run out his front door, her father in close pursuit.
She ran to the ladder and was about to descend as her mother opened the front door and started climbing the ladder instead.
"Mama, what's going on?" Morraine asked. She rushed back to the window as her father's shouts intensified. He tugged Baelfire by the ear back to the boy's front door. Rumplestiltskin stood outside looking perplexed as her father laid into the spinner.
"If you actually paid attention to your boy, and didn't spend so much time in such a catatonic state spinning…" her father chided.
Her mother closed the window Morraine had just opened.
"Please tell me what's going on," Morraine pleaded. "Why is Papa so mad at Baelfire?"
Her mother closed the curtains and held them as if she anticipated they'd open of their own accord. She squeezed her eyes shut and pursed her lips before gently stating, "From now on when you're getting dressed, you need to make sure these are closed."
Morraine's stomach felt like it dropped to the floor. Her mouth suddenly became dry. So Baelfire had been watching her? She blinked, unsure how such news made her feel. Embarrassed, most definitely. Frightened as well. Exposed. But mostly, she couldn't stop wondering what he thought when he saw her — and whether it was positive. It was probably too much to hope for, since she didn't see what was so great about the weird changes to her body. Curves were fine on Shelby Smithers and Corinne Carothers, but her curves made her feel like a freak.
The next day Baelfire ignored her and Morraine knew she had her answer: He was obviously horrified of what he saw. He played kickball with the other boys — with the ball she had bought, no less — while girls like Shelby and Corrine giggled from the sidelines. Morraine was disgusted, feeling like she'd been kicked as much as that ball, and walked in the woods to clear her mind. When she headed home for supper later, she saw Baelfire ahead walking between Shelby and Corrine, the ball tucked protectively under his arm. She sighed. Would he ever speak to her again? Would he even want to?
That night she peeked out her closed curtains, but Baelfire's shades were drawn and he did not show for their usual nighttime chat. She slept poorly in anticipation of her birthday the next morning. Her parents were agitated, awaiting her summons to the Ogre Wars at any moment. She couldn't deal with them, not when she felt so badly at the loss of Baelfire's company.
She rose with the dawn, dressed and disembarked. She roamed the forest and reflected on her 14 years of life. What would the next 14 years bring? She remembered the gossipy women of her youth who spoke of the inevitability of her and Baelfire as a couple. HA! Not likely under present circumstances, that's for sure.
Due to the lack of sleep and few hours' stroll, she rested in a bed of pine needles by the river's edge. She stared at the blue and red specks of sky that the branches failed to obscure. Her eyelids were growing heavy when a snapping twig jolted her awake. She bolted upright and turned toward the noise. Baelfire stood in front of her.
His eyes widened in panic. He surveyed her from head to toe, blinked, and shook his head in a failed attempt to erase the image he held of her. "I wasn't spying, I promise! I … I was just walking by and … and …" His agitation grew as he ran his fingers through his hair. "I swear I didn't know you'd be here!"
She turned her back to him, her voice unsteady as his words felt like a slap. "Sure. If you had your way you'd be as far away from me as possible."
Baelfire paused, unsure how to reply. She squinted her eyes shut to quell the tears, but they refused to be contained, and in the end she was forced to release a tiny sob.
"You're crying," he noted with empathy.
"No, I'm not," she answered defiantly with a sniff.
Baelfire approached and sat beside her. "Why? Is it because you're 14 now?" She knew this was his delicate way of mentioning the Ogre Wars draft.
"No. Well, yes, some. But mostly it's because my best friend thinks I'm hideous." She could feel the sobs returning and she brought her knees to her chest to conceal them.
"What?" he asked incredulously. "I don't think you're hideous! I… I just figured you didn't want to talk to me after …" His voice trailed off and he sighed heavily. He had things he needed to say and now seemed as good a time as any. His shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done it. It was stupid. I didn't mean to." He looked pained as he stared at his feet and his voice cracked with emotion. "You can keep hating me if you want."
Morraine blinked as she processed his apology. She bit her lower lip trying to put a confusing jumble of thoughts and feelings into words. "I … I don't hate you. I never have." She stopped her analysis there and gulped.
Baelfire turned to her. "But you avoided me all day yesterday!"
Morraine's eyes widened. "No, YOU avoided ME all day yesterday!"
Baelfire looked at the ground and shook his head in disbelief. He kicked at a protruding tree root and sighed. "Well, your papa hates me, that's for sure."
Morraine wiped away her tears. "He'll get over it," she declared with certainty.
She lay back on the ground and Baelfire joined her. A comfortable, relieved silence followed as they stared at the branches swaying in the wind.
Baelfire spoke first. "Oh, um… I," he sat up and reached into his pouch, pulling out a piece of cloth wrapped around something. "… I made you this for your birthday."
Morraine sat up and took it from him.
"I was going to leave it on your doorstep," he explained, "if you still weren't talking to me by tonight."
Morraine removed the cloth and found a beaded necklace with leather strand. She gasped as she held it up. "Oh Baelfire, thank you! It's beautiful!"
He grinned.
"Can you put it on me?" she asked, scooting her back towards him and pulling her long blonde hair to the side.
As he tied the strand, his fingers lightly brushed the back of her neck, sending a tingle down her spine. She turned back around and tried to ignore the goose bumps that encompassed her.
"Happy birthday," he smiled.
She beamed and blushed. "Thank you."
"MORRAINE!"
They jumped, thinking at first that the voice was Morraine's father. But it was much worse. This wasn't just a voice of anger.
It was a voice of evil.
Without thinking, they joined hands and ran through the woods until they reached the clearing. Morraine could see her parents sobbing — and the soldiers getting restless.
"Where is Morraine?" the duke snarled. "We are here to collect her!"
Morraine turned to Baelfire and the two exchanged a glance that spoke volumes. He gulped and she squeezed his hand to assure him. She closed her eyes and forced herself to memorize the feel of his hand in hers. As she did, her mind cleared and suddenly she understood what she had been too young to fathom all along.
No matter what happened to her, no matter what she faced in the trenches or on the battlefield, her heart would always belong to Baelfire.
She clutched the necklace with her free hand and found her strength and courage. She turned back to Baelfire with one last glance. This time he squeezed her hand, the emotions on his face palpable. She knew that if she suggested they live together in hiding deep in the forest, he'd readily agree to it.
She nodded. "Let's go," she whispered.
They ran the rest of the way through the field and stopped in front of the duke. Morraine released Baelfire's hand. As soon as she did, he ran back to his hut. She instantly regretted letting him go. She reached for her necklace instead and held it tenderly.
"I am Morraine," she answered. She felt unnaturally calm. She knew this day would come. She was prepared to face it bravely.
The duke sneered and pulled her up onto his horse with him. From her perch, she looked at her parents to say goodbye, but they were too overwhelmed with grief to notice. They fought to get her back, and the Dark One punished them, nearly killing them.
Please let me go, Morraine tried to tell them telepathically. Let me do this for you. She then noticed Baelfire hadn't abandoned her; he'd only run to retrieve his father for comfort.
Look at me, look at me one last time, Baelfire, she tried to tell him. He did briefly and she tried to communicate a lifetime of feelings in one quick glance. But then the duke dug his heels into his horse and she was off to the battlefields where her life would change forever.