Acceptance at Last

Light barges into the room through the windows, and my eyes ache before I even open them. I pull the covers back over my head, attempting to shield myself, but the sunlight continues to shine directly into my eyes. There will be no escaping the headache today, so I toss the covers aside, moving towards the edge of my bed. Legs, shy of touching the floor, I will myself the strength to stand. One, two, three… With an awkward push I stand on both feet without falling back or slipping, and I make my way out to the kitchen, eyes still aching and adjusting to the light, blurring my vision slightly. 

I can already hear my mother, and picture her sitting in her armchair by the fire, ordering my father and siblings around. As I round the corner I find her standing over the stove, alone, I’ve woken up late. She glares at me, up and down, before returning her gaze to the pan, saying, “Did you even bother to shower?” My answer will not matter. I pull up a chair at the table as she continues talking, “You look like you slept in your clothes again,” glaring at me before saying “You smell like you did too.” Why she says these things without expecting an answer I’ll never understand. I don’t believe we’ve ever had a conversation, just her talking at me, or me making small talk to her, but in each instance, there’s no reply. 

I cross my arms on the table and lay my head on top of them, staring out the window into the woods, allowing my mother’s voice to fade and muffle as I try to find some comfort and ignore the persistent pain in my legs and chest. As I finally find comfort I hear a shout, looking up in time to watch a spoon fly past my face. “Are you deaf, girl? Get up. There’s work to be done.”

I don’t want to ask, but it’s been long enough that I should. The pain isn’t going away, it’s gotten worse, and surely a doctor could fix it, but how to phrase it to her… I’ve got an idea.

“Sorry, this pain is still bugging me. I didn’t sleep well, it’s in my chest and eyes now too, not just my legs.” She says nothing. “I could probably work better if the doctor-”

“He’s not coming.”

“What?” A swift hand glides past my face as I barely doge her smack, leaning backwards in my chair as she lunges across the room. Failure to land a hit makes her more irritable. “Don’t interrupt. Your father asked him, but he’s got better things to do than see you about some eye pain. You can get your work done fine without complaining.”

“I told you it started in my legs, the eye pain was only recent, and then my chest has been aching-”

“Don’t talk back, you’ve been grumpy all morning. Get to work, don’t go wandering off again, straight to your chores, you hear? Be careful around the woods.” She shouts as I walk out the door, through the gate, and along the path. No point arguing against that, she’s in no mood. I wish she would listen, then she’d know I could get more work done if I did see a doctor. I don’t even need to see one, just a description of my symptoms would surely be enough to give me something for the pain. She probably didn’t ask Dad to go, I doubt the doctor heard about me at all. It’s ‘too expensive’ to get me looked at, but when she wants a new outfit we have money to spare, how convenient. Why do I even bother? 

That’s a good point… And a better point, where am I? Looking up from the ground and out of my thoughts, vision still blurry and eyes still aching, I realise nothing looks familiar. There’s no path, I must have… drifted off, just a moment ago I was it. Well, since I’m here…I find a tree to lounge beneath and lie up against it, as comfortable as I’ll get, before realising I forgot to eat. Not that I was offered anything. No point thinking about that now, there are much better things to think about to distract myself from the pain. I daydream, leaning my head back against the tree, and fade into a pleasant dream. 

Waking from slumber I feel a warmth in front of me. As I open my eyes I realise I’m not where I fell asleep. There’s a fire now, as I glance around I can see wooden cabins that weren’t there before. 

“Welcome.”

The voice sends a chill through my skin that writhes down my spine, and as I dart forward I see her. Eyes sunken, skin greyed, long black hair and robes. What could she want? “Are you… a witch?” I stutter, trying to be calm. “No, I’m not the witch, he lives over there,” pointing over to a young teenage boy, with golden and purple robes, and blue hair. He tends to colourful plants, then smiles and waves excitedly. He’s holding some kind of crutch. 

I pick up the nearest sharp object I can find and point it to her neck. “What do you want?” She turns back and smiles warmly. 

“I- I’m of no use to you. I can’t work.” She chuckles and brushes my hand away. “I’ve been watching you. You seem… different. I thought you would like this better.”

“And instead of asking, you just took me.”

“I suppose that might have been an oversight.”

I can’t help but laugh. I don’t trust her but… she’s funny. “Let me help you up, I can show you around.”

As she helps me off the ground I’m flooded with questions. Surely she must be lying, must want something. This place could prove to be better than home, even if she is. I do my best to hide my pain as we walk around, but moving so suddenly has made it flare up. Her eyes wander to my hand, clasping my chest. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.”

“Why do you clutch your chest?”

“I’m fine.”

“I see…” She pauses a moment. “You know, many of us were not welcome in our homes, for different reasons. I saw the way you were treated, you were seen as useless, and made to work despite your injury. You reminded me of Oscar.” She points again to the bright young man with the crutches, in his farm. “He lived in a village like yours. He was born with only one leg, his mother died in childbirth and his father didn’t want him, so they left him in the woods. When I found him I brought him here, and raised him.”

“What does that have to do with me? I’m just sick, it’ll go away.” She looks at me now, she’s not trying to be condescending, but I feel it. “I don’t need your sympathy or your help. I’m fine where I am.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-nine, what does that-”

“Why are you still in that house?” I don’t answer, there’s no point. She knows. 

Her tone shifts to jovial, unsettling me, as she says “You look like you could use some rest. Come, you can stay as long as you like before you make your choice.” I’m not complaining about the rest, but decide to change the topic. I need as much information as possible before I decide.

“What’s your name?”

“Aela. I never did get yours either, sorry about that. I’m not particularly accustomed to new people.”

“Yeah, the whole kidnapping thing was enough of a clue to tell me that.” She laughs at my sarcasm. “I’m Emily.” At least they find it funny here, at home I’d just get hit. Then again, I’d get hit for breathing in that house. She seems to notice I’m in my head and returns to a more serious discussion. “I am sorry about your… illness. I did not mean to offend you. Have you seen a doctor for it?” I sigh before replying, “No. My mother’s been promising to take me for months, but… she always makes up an excuse, usually related to money.”

“I’ll never understand why people bring children into the world only to make them suffer under their hands.” I find this remark surprising, there’s a gap of silence between us. “Sorry, it’s just… I was treated similarly back home, though it was years ago now, it still enrages me, even at thirty.”

She seems sincere, too sincere. I can’t understand it. I suppose it makes sense, she was rejected by her people, so now she takes in all the other rejects and helps them, but… that can’t be all there is to it. She has to have another motive, maybe money. Though I don’t see how she’d make any, or perhaps power. If she’s the leader maybe she likes being in charge, or she wants revenge on the people who treated her badly in the past since it ‘enrages’ her so much. That seems the most likely. But there’s Oscar. To raise a child for the sole purpose of revenge seems hypocritical if she wants revenge for being used and mistreated when she was young. While in my thoughts she’s led us to a cabin that seems to be hers, judging by the black tapestry and stained glass windows. She leads us inside and offers me a tray of food, and her bed. “I have some things to take care of, so you can have a rest in here. If you decide to stay the night we can share, if that’s alright with you.” This is the first time I’ve seen her truly awkward, a guest in her house must be unusual, or perhaps a stranger in her bed is making her uncomfortable. “Fine by me,” I reply. Regardless, the mask is slipping, and I’m thankful for the rest, so I gladly drift off to sleep. 

I wake with her beside me. She’s strangely warm, for someone so seemingly cold. It must be night, but I can hear something outside, a banging on the door. It must be the wind, I think to myself, we are in the woods after all. She wakes up too as I shift, rolling over to face her. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“That’s alright, it’s just the noise.”

“Yeah…”

“Don’t be afraid. It’s just the wind.”

“Who said I was afraid?” I ask as the door continues to shake in the wind. She smiles. “Your face. You seem to be prepared for the worst at all times.”

“Can you blame me?”

“No, I suppose not. Still, there’s no reason to be afraid here. We are safe from the outside.”

“And if someone on the inside had bad intentions?”

“Then the rest of us would soon know, and we would protect one another, as we always have.” I lie next to her, staring straight into her face. It’s so clear she believes what she says, there’s such a sincerity to her. Suddenly the door rattles again, louder than previously, making the two of us jump.

“I'm going to check what that noise is” She sighs, smiling fondly as she rolls over. “Suit yourself.” I stand up slowly, but still almost fall over as the pain siezes my legs. When I get to the door I open it and, to my surprise, I see my father, attempting to break through the door. He looks angry for a moment, but relieved when he recognises me, crushing me in a hug, paying no mind to the pain in my chest and legs. I look past him, frantic, to see that he’s here alone, thankfully. “Thank God you’re safe. Your mother’s worried sick.”

“Why? Did she miss having a servant to do her work so she can lounge all day?” He’s silent because he knows it's true. I’ve seen the relief on his face when he leaves for work, with no thought of what his children endure. “Look, we can talk about that on the way back, for now, we need to get out of here.”

“Why would I want to go back?”

“Emily… Of course, you want to come home, don’t be stupid.” I give him a look, I’m too tired and sore to communicate what I feel. It will be enough, he knows about the pain. “I know things have been bad for you,” he replies, I know what he’s about to say before it leaves his mouth, “but things haven’t been easy for your mother either-”

“So you’re fine with her taking that out on me?” He says nothing, stunned at my bluntness. “What am I saying, of course you are. You’ve never stopped it before, why would you now?” He still says nothing and begins looking at me sceptically. “I’m not going back. Tell them what you like. I think… I think I could be happy here, I’m not sure just yet.” He still looks sceptical. “I haven’t decided what I want. I’ll be back in a few days if I decide I don’t want to stay, but I need time. I want to make this choice myself.”

“Alright,” he sighs, defeated, scepticism apparent in his reply. Seeing him here is strange, a reminder that this could go away, that I’d have to go back. I don’t like that. I slam the door in his face and make my way back to bed. Aela’s still awake, but barely. “Anything there?” She mumbles. “Nah, just the wind…” I reply, pulling the covers over my head.

I wake up the next morning with my arms around her, which she seems to find amusing. We spend the day together again, and I want to be happy. I would be, if not for this sick feeling in my stomach, I’m worried about what Dad will do. Still, I try my best to be happy. Aela introduces me to an inventor, he’s in a special chair with wheels. She says he could make me one, so I don’t have to walk as much when I’m having a bad day with the pain. “Only if you’d like, it’s up to you.” 

“I’ll think about it.” The idea is intriguing, but I still feel sick. She seems to have noticed and asks me if the pain is bad. I say I’m feeling ill and she takes me back to her house, lying me down in her bed and telling me in a soft, warm voice to rest. I drift off to sleep again, dreaming of her.

Screaming from outside awakens me, the sudden movement of sitting up sending a jolt of pain down my spine. I look out the window and see my father, holding Oscar up by the scruff of his collar, guards from the human village running past him. I get out of bed as quickly as possible, trying not to fall over. As I burst through the door he locks eyes with me. “Put him down!” I hear Aela before I see her, standing in Oscar’s garden. The rest of the citizens watch on, not yet subdued, they look ready for a fight. My father begins to speak, voice booming across the clearing, “A trade. My daughter for your son.” He points to Aela. She looks from my father, to Oscar, then to me, unsure of what to do. This is the first time I’ve seen her not be confident. “It’s not her choice to make,” I say, my father locks eyes with me. “You cannot speak for yourself, she’s done something to you, possessed you-”

“She hasn’t. I can prove it.” I make my way towards him.

“How could you possibly-”

“You married Mum because you knew her father would give you a good job and let you take over when he died. You always wanted children, she never did, but you had them anyway. You despise her now, because-”

“Enough!” I’ve embarrassed him in front of his friends, merely by stating the truth. I could say more, but I won’t have to. “How would she know any of those things?”

“Well, she’s seen what’s in your mind then-”

“Dad,” I’m in front of him now, a guard off to the side still holding Oscar. “Please, let me make this choice.” He doesn’t seem to know what to say, distracted in his thoughts. While everyone’s distracted I’ve watched Aela from the corner of my eye, sneaking closer and closer. She’s behind the guard now, still, nobody has noticed, eyes on my father and I. She stabs the guard in the leg, then grabs Oscar and runs back to the others. My father continues glaring at me. “There is no fixing you, is there?”

“I don’t need to be fixed.” He scoffs, tells the rest of the men to retreat, then turns to me before leaving and says, “Your mother was always right about you.” I just laugh and watch him walk away.

“Thank you.” Alea runs up to me and hugs me gently. “Without you, I couldn’t have saved him.”

“Without me, you wouldn’t be in this mess. I’m so sorry.”

“You didn’t know-”

“I should’ve.”

“Emily, it wasn’t your fault. Nobody blames you.” I keep expecting her soft exterior to fall away to something harsher and angrier, but… nothing. “Would you like to stay?” I cannot believe she’s offering. “Well, I have nowhere else to go.” She frowns, “Is that the only reason you wish to stay?” I smile, it’s like she can read my mind, “No, I like it here, I think… I think I’ll be happy here.” She smiles, and for the first time, I feel I’ve found something stable, something secure, something that won’t do me wrong. Acceptance, at last.