Good Morrow Kate! (Sienna part 3)

The title doesn't really have anything to do with anything else but if you can name that play I will be happy for you....

Sorry no prizes.

Sienna part 3 this is REALLY rough and honestly I hate this part. just... bear with me.

It took me a month before I was able to use my arm again and even then it was still tender and weak. I was back on my feet after a week in bed and although no one would admit it, they were all worried about me. They were all careful to give me the easiest chores.

According to Hilari (she was the only one who would be completely honest with me at the time) the villagers had gone in after me in a rush and had brought me back in my beaten condition. Beaten, broken and bleeding but alive. Hilari said she had almost fainted when she’d seen me, I’d looked dead, limp in one of the older men’s arms. They’d wrapped me up in one of their big coats, but it hadn’t covered all of me. Hilari had leaned in close at this point, just dying to give me all the juicy details. I couldn’t really blame her. Our lives were steady and hard. There was always the constant threat of a slow death, sickness or starvation looming in the back of our minds. There was always more to do, more to prepare and finish before winter. Something like this was proof of the monsters in the forests and the most exciting thing either of us had ever experienced but... I can’t honestly say that I was happy that she was enjoying it.

What angered me more was that no one would tell me how I’d survived and what had happened. Not that I was ungrateful or anything but, how was it that I had lived? I was sure that I was dead. I had been incapacitated and helpless, the monster should have taken the advantage and killed me. When I thought back, running through my mind the events of that night I couldn’t remember how it had ended. It was blank, completely blank.

When I asked Hilari if the men had killed the monster she had shaken her head gravely and said, “There’s no way. Everyone came back in one piece, I mean I would think after all we’ve heard about the monsters that someone wouldn’t come back. You seriously don’t remember anything?”

I shook my head.

She pouted and sighed.

I stopped pumping Hilari for information after that.

I started to catch my mother spacing out, forehead furrowed and lips tight. She was worried and she wasn’t the only one, but instead of pretending like nothing was wrong, the entire village was holding me at arms length. I started brooding. I was under a lot of stress trying to figure out why they seemed frightened of me, and I’m actually impressed that I held up that well. I thought that I was coping with the entire situation pretty well, but now that I look back, I have to admit that I didn’t have a handle on any part of my life. I felt lost. Before I’d always had a distant idea of what my life held for me. In my mind there was images of a quiet, domestic living, marriage and a family. It wouldn’t be easy, but it would be a full and satisfying life. Now there was nothing. It was like I’d been cut off.

The first indication of how alone I was becoming in the village occurred in the blacksmith’s smithy. Our village blacksmith, Kael, was big, bulky, loud and liked to be rough and tough. Kael may have looked and acted like the big, tough guy but I knew him to be gruffly caring. I don’t remember my father and my mother never mentions him, and Kael had always been the closest thing to a father that I’d ever had.

I’d gone down to the bellows just to get away from my mother for a while, just to get away from everyone for a while. The clang of the hammer and the heat and glow of the fire are soothing. Normally I would’ve gone to the forest but I was in no condition to even consider it.

Kael never looked up at me.

Usually he would just have grunted or yelled something curdling at me. When he pretended I didn’t exist, my heart felt like it had frozen and sunk to my stomach. But having nowhere else to go I sat in the bellows and let the heat of the furnace dry my silent tears.

“How’s your arm?” my mom asked.

I tried not to sigh or roll my eyes. “Fine.”

“Can you move it?” I moved my arm up and down side to side and clenched and unclenched my fingers. My mother nodded in satisfaction. “I’m going to take the splint off and we’ll see how far you can move. Gently.” she added the final word as a warning.

I nodded woodenly and waited as she unwrapped the splint. It was strange not having the weight of the braces against my arm and it felt light and free. Cautiously I bent my elbow, moving very slowly and waiting for the pang of pain. It was stiff and groaned grumpily but whole.

My mother let out a small sigh of relief and moved to put away the splint.

“Mom?”

“MmHmmm?”

“What happened to me?” I glanced up to see her reaction.

She didn’t miss a beat, “You went into the forest and were attacked by a monster. We came in and found you and brought you back. No more no less.” She began to wrap more bandages on my arm, just to protect the tenderness and slow the movement.

Funny how she knew exactly what I had on my mind. It occurred to me that it was probably the only thing on her mind as well. But that didn’t change the fact that her previous statement was a lie. Why did she lie to me? It was a calculated response. Her voice was kept carefully level and she kept her eyes on her work. It was a lie. I clenched my teeth together to keep myself from lashing out in anger.

It didn’t help much, all the anger and pain that I had kept bottled up boiled deep in my belly, threatening to overflow at any moment. I knew if I let it out I would be shouting and for a moment I wanted to let it go. To let it all out. But this was my mother and although I was angry, I couldn’t shout at her. She deserved respect and civility.

So I swallowed, pressing the anger down and tried again. “Mom, why am I alive? If the monster had attacked me, why am I alive?”

Slowly, she finished wrapping and looked up at me. All in a rush my anger dissipated within me. Her misty grey eyes were old and exhausted. I’d never seen my mother so exposed and vulnerable. She’d always been the rock in my life, my life line. “Because you are your father’s daughter.”

My father?

“Mom,” my voice was soft, shaky, “tell me the truth. All of it. I need to know.” I was blinking back tears now. Ughh, I wiped my eyes furiously. Why do my feelings have a direct line to me tear ducts? I hated that I was showing this weakness. My mother never cried.

My mom was silent but I could see that she wouldn’t lie. With a sigh she sat on the cot with me and turned to stare in the fire she said in less than a whisper, “You lived because you killed the monster. By the time we’d reached you, you had already killed him.”

No. Automatic denial.

What?

No... that made no sense.

“No.” I said out loud, “No, I was half his size and had one arm broken. I couldn’t--”

“You did.”

“No!” I stood, my voice cracking, more desperate than insistent.

My mother stood calmly and faced me. She took a deep breath and as if in great effort she stated. “You are half monster.”

It took me a sec to register what she said. Then I just wanted to hit something. I clenched my fists, almost wishing that my nails would draw my clear, human blood. The anger slowly faded. I sat, crying. Completely defeated.

No. She was lying again. No. No...

I looked down at my hands, trying to imagine the long and clawed fingers of the creature I had faced. I shuddered. It wasn’t possible, I was nothing like them.

“You’re lying.” I said firmly. “You. Are. Lying.”

My mother looked me straight on, kneeling to be on my level. Her patience was thinning and she said very firmly, “Sienna, I am your mother. If anyone would know, wouldn’t it be me?”

I opened my mouth and then shut it with a snap, not knowing how to counter. Deep down, I knew she was telling the truth. “How? How is this possible? How can I be a monster.” Tears were now flowing freely, I didn’t bother to wipe them away. “Who was my father?”

My mother’s face softened and eyes glazed over, remembering, “He was charming... and I was young, foolish and a--.” She stopped herself, I could see the muscles in her jaw work as she clenched and unclenched it. She looked down. “There’s nothing else to say.” Her eyes met mine, moist. Her voice broke softly, “I love you, Sienna... and I’m so... so sorry. In so many ways this is my fault and I can do nothing to fix it.” She pulled me close and hugged me. “But whatever happens, you are my daughter and I love you.”

The Answer to the Play is Taming of the Shrew by William Shakespeare!

Just Keep Swimming (Sienna Part 2)

I happen to have easy access to a pool. I know, doesn't it just make you writhe with envy?

Well it should.
Sadly, it's been raining all weekend and hasn't been warm at all. So the pool isn't all that great. Despite that, I've gone swimming at LEAST four or five times in the last couple of days. Hurray for me.

I'm in a rut guys. I hate ruts. They are awful for the soul and a pain to get out of.

Deep sigh....

Sienna part 2, Enjoy

PS. Did anyone like my cliff hanger? I found it thoroughly annoying. HA! I love playing God.

To be honest it was more of a squeal that an scream, pitiful really, my throat was so tight I couldn’t get a real scream out. I felt like a pig... at a butchers.

It moved faster than I had ever expected. As soon as the shriek had left my mouth I was flying. The Golden-Eyed monster had backhanded me, sending me crashing into the underbrush. The wind left me in a woosh as I hit a tree a few feet away, everything was spinning and sharp, bright lights exploded behind my eyes. I couldn’t see, everything floated just beyond the dark fuzzy cloud that obstructed my view. Gasping for air and crying in pain, I slumped over grasping my shoulder where the monster had struck me. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move my arm. I looked down to see my elbow sticking out in the direction I was facing, the bone was stark white in the moonlight. For a moment I couldn’t believe it was my arm, until white hot pain shot up to register to my brain.

I screamed again this time in pain and slumped over gasping and crying, biting my lip until it bled. I reached out with my good arm to cling on a tree near me, anything to keep me steady against the spinning. My arm burned! It was like someone had taken it and was trying to twist it completely out of it’s socket, the ligaments and muscles squeezing tighter and tighter against the nerves. But instead of coming off it just kept twisting, like a green branch would when you are trying to snap it. Gritting my teeth against the increasing shoots of pain that exploded up my arm, I rocked back and forth. Oh, dear gods, stop the pain. My vision was getting worse, I could barely see the colossal monster in front of me.

It was huge, just over seven feet tall. The moonlight illuminated it’s bald head and face. It had gray-- in the dark it looked almost purple-- pasty skin with veins criss-crossing every which way. Deep set eyes, that glowed in the darkness. They didn’t reflect light, they created their own. It’s lips were thin, the same sickly color of his skin but his teeth were a dark yellow, razor pointed and small. It was grinning, wide eyed, as if it could feel my pain and fear. He-- yes, he. I realized that if it could feel pleased about my death, it had to have some feeling. It must be intelligent.-- had broad shoulders and a large chest, bulging with disproportionate muscles. His legs were the same, thighs almost as thick as a tree trunk. His arms seemed to be elongated, reaching just past his knees. Huge hands that ended in razor sharp nails, reached for me. Time seemed to slow.

In that moment, heart pounding a hole in my chest, I realized I was dead. It was inevitable, but he wasn’t going to let me leave this earth peacefully. I could feel his cold hate, his desire to slowly rip me to shreds, piece by piece, to indulge himself on my innards. The feeling of warm, soft intestines in my hands...

I shrieked and struggled to stand, jerking away from him. I could see it! I could feel it... exactly how I was going to die. I was in his head!

It was more than I could take.

I screamed and screamed and screamed, piercing the silent woods with a blood curdling cry of terror.

The last thing I remember was the roaring in my ears.

A white flare.

Ouch. That hurt.

Pain shot up my arm and into the base of my skull. My head started to pound. The dull, fogged and half formed thoughts started to clear.

Ow... ow.

“Aaagghhhh!” I screamed, my throat dry and voice hoarse. I opened my eyes. Blurs and dark shapes. I couldn’t see or think quite right. I knew it but I didn’t know how to fix it or what was going on. I could just feel the increasing pounding and shooting pains in my arms, head, and chest. The screaming had helped a little, it had taken my mind off of it. There was nothing else I could do, moving at all made it hurt worse and it made me aware of how sore and achy my entire body was. But if I couldn’t move then I would just have to sit here and bear it.... I didn’t think I could manage that. It felt like huge slivers were being shoved deeper and deeper under my skin. I was in pain, blistering and tormenting pain and everyone should know about it.

Somehow my already raw throat endured.

The next time I was fully conscious, I realized I was in my cot and somehow--alive. Everything about me was heavy and took immense effort. It was like someone had emptied my body and filled it with rocks and sand. I’d never been so exhausted that I couldn’t move before. Slowly, and very cautiously, I turned my head to look around our small one-room cottage. I winced as my neck reached it limit. I relaxed the muscles I had just tensed, trying to control the messages my body was sending. I was okay, just relax.

My mother wasn’t there, but the room was warm and a fire was lit.

Whatever she had given me was effecting me and my head felt light, like it was detached completely from my body. I looked down at myself, trying desperately to take stock of my situation. My left arm was in a splint my mother lovingly wrapped for me, I shivered, glad I hadn’t been awake when she’d set that. Both of my arms were so covered in bandages, it looked like I was being held together with cloth. From the waist down, I had a heavy quilt blocking my view from the rest of the damage. I did feel mostly numb but the dull throb and sharp pain when I moved couldn’t be ignored, basically I just felt... ugghhh.

It took me a long time to recall why I was were I was and what had happened. I remembered being terrified but I couldn’t remember details. Just gold glowing eyes.

My breathing started to pick up and I started to tremble. The sun was shining through our makeshift window. I was in a place of warmth, clear air, and comfort, but I couldn’t stop shaking. I shut my eyes tightly and tears leaked through them. Why was I so scared? I laughed at myself softly. I knew what I was afraid of and no matter how many times I told myself that I was fine, nothing could get me here, I didn’t believe it.

I ended up drifting to sleep in that pitiful state, to tired to lie to myself anymore.

Sienna (Revised) Part 1

Dear, wonderful and gorgeous followers. I HAVE FOUND TIME TO WRITE!!! Praise me in all my glory!

Yeah... joke.

I have gone through this part of the story at least five times. It's still very rough... because I still don't know what's going to happen. I know. Sad. But I decided I should just post it and let you guys read it. I need help with plot and making the dialogue funny. My characters are painfully dramatic and it bugs the heck out of me. I feel like they should be a little happier. Anyway besides the point. Read. Enjoy... I know I fail at action writing, forgive me.

Sienna Part 1

The forest no matter how long I have lived in it, next to it or far from it holds a place of mystery. It doesn’t matter the years that I have wandered it I still feel its peace unsettling and unnerving and addicting. It was no different back then when I wandered it to escape the tidy village with its narrow roads and houses that were so tightly packed together that mothers wiped the noses of their neighbors children as often as their own, whether from an innate housewife instinct to keep their house clean or a case of mistaken identity I have still not reached a conclusion. In contrast, the forest was peaceful.

Not quiet, it teams with life. But unlike the orderly village you need to sit still long enough. Its noise seeps instead of bombards: bugs, birds, wind in the leaves, sometimes the thrump of deer galloping through the brush. It was much like my life was then peaceful full of unobtrusive noise.

Until something started to poke me in the face.

“Sienna… oh, Sienna…”

I jerked away from the offending finger and tried to sit up. Grass stuck to the left side of my face. I rubbed the strands off, feeling the rugged imprint they had left. I glared-- eyes narrowed against the sun-- at my best friend Hilari.

“I should’ve known you would be out here. Why don’t you come and play in the village every once in a while?” She was pouting, as usual.

Once I could stand the sun, I relaxed my eyes opening them slightly trying to get them moving and focused. I was buying time, thinking of how to explain without angering her. “Because the village is boring.” I stated simply, almost sighing, unable to convey all my thoughts and feelings.

Hilari grinned. “True.” She poked me with her foot. “Come on, sun’s going down. We need to head back.”

I didn’t move for a moment, partially because I didn’t trust my legs. They felt tingly from my thoughtlessly chosen sleeping position. I had the sinking feeling that if I tried to stand they would give out from under me. So instead I sat trying to remember what I had dreamed about.

“Sienna! Come on!” Hilari shouted impatiently. “Your mom will have my head if you aren’t right behind me!”

I sighed. I’m told I do it often.

As I trailed Hilari, I noticed my mother in the midst of the preparations for the night. Wordlessly Hiliari and I moved to help, we carried wood from the storage pile near the edge of our village and started to help build the bonfires that circled our area. The men closed up the wooden gates, sparse things. There were some nights, when the wind blew hard enough that I expected the entire fence to fall. But sure enough every morning they were still there, clinging to the logs that crossed over them. I always remembered to thank the gods on those mornings.

Abruptly my mother stood before me. “Sienna, pass that to Hilari,” she motioned to my load of wood. “I need your help with something else.” I obediently did as she asked and followed her deeper into the village, passing the bellows that still glowed slightly. We stopped outside of Old Agnus’ house. My mother turned on her heel and faced me, lips pursed and eyes solemn. I waited.

After a moment my mother spoke, softly and urgently, “Angus is dying, I need your help to make the passing easy. Do you think you can do that?” her eyes bored into mine. From the worry in her eyes and face, I knew that she wasn’t sure if I could handle it.

My mother often asked for my help, I knew her herbs and how she liked to keep her satchel but never had she asked me to help with a dying patient. She’d always gotten someone older. I bit my lip. I knew and loved Agnus, maybe she felt that a friendly face would help. I nodded once, steeling myself for the scene inside.

My mother let out a deep breath, her expression dark for a moment before opening the door.

The room smelled old but nice, full of my mother’s herbs. We moved to the cot and my mother directed with motions instead of words. She had trained me from the time I could walk and carry, so it was easy to interpret her meaning. I helped Agnus sit up and when I felt how light she was, I picked her up. My mother moved expertly to strip the cot of it’s mattress, it was soiled and needed changing, I was certainly relieved when she did that particular chore.

From what my mother had told me Agnus as been very brave and enduring. It made me smile in pride. Mother often said how hard it was to treat older people; they were angry and tired, sick of life, but Agnus had been pleasant, calm, and endearing. I had to blink tears away and ignore the deep aching I felt in my chest. Agnus had taught me how to sew, how to scour and tease wool, churn cream, cook, make soap, all the skills I would need to be of help to my mother.

I glanced over to my mother, memories flickering through my mind. One summer afternoon in particular, Angus and I were scrubbing clothes against the stones of the river.

“Agnus, why doesn’t mother wash with us?”

Agnus smiled. “She doesn’t like washing. Silly girl never had a desire to learn.”

I was a little taken aback by the comment. “Mother doesn’t know how to clean clothes?”

“Oh, she knows the theory, but the girl moves so slowly and complains that I ended up taking the chore for her.” I opened my mouth to ask more about my mother. She never spoke of her past if she could help it. Agnus splashed me gently. “No more of that today, darling, if you have questions ask your mother. It’s her responsibility to complete your education, not mine.”

I sighed and we moved on to more innocent matters.

“Sienna, I need you to move her.”

My mother’s gentle voice pulled me back to the present and I carried Agnus to a cushioned chair and gently set her in it. Arranging the precious feather cushions around her. When she was settled I went to help my mother. We stripped and cleaned, brought in a new mattress with fresh stuffing and readied the cot for Agnus again. It was simple work, nothing like the complex medicine my mother worked with daily.

I stopped and shuddered, a chill sweeping through the room. I turned to see the source.

Agnus was dying, her breaths were coming in shallow and quick. She seemed to sense it too, and croaked, “Mary, you must tell her.” The air she sucked in rattled in her lungs. “I-- have--” but whatever her last words were they were gone.

Agnus was dead.

As her spirit left, I realized how empty I felt, the aching had increased. I had loved Agnus, she had been like my grandmother. My mother came close and hugged me, trying to squeeze out the hurt. I buried my face into her, breathing in the spices and familiar wood scent that clung to her.

I should have asked her what Agnus meant. It was important and it was about me, I knew. I could see the fear in my mother’s expression but I didn’t care at the moment. I missed Agnus, the way her eyes had crinkled whenever I came to see her or when she called me ‘darling.’ I would never speak with her again, never see her, never laugh with her. Suddenly I was suffocating, pressed from all sides by the memories. I needed to get out of this room.

I ran out the door. If my mother called, I didn’t hear. My breaths were coming out in sobs and I was doing my best to hold them in, chest burning from the effort. I just needed to be alone.

“Sienna! Sienna, wait!” It was Hilari, but I couldn’t wait.

I slowed my pace, unconsciously picking my way through the trees. Just go away, Hilari! I was fuming, why was I so mad? I’m not an angry person. I’ve never had many reasons to raise my voice to anyone. There have been times when I was frustrated or hurt but this was rage. Pure fury at... at everything, everyone. The gods for letting her die, me for being helpless, Agnus for dying, Mom for being just as helpless as me when she should be able to do more, and at both of the old women for keeping things from me.

I’m not stupid. I had seen the hints, the looks that had passed between the two women. The cryptic and sometimes cutting words that they spat at each other. I sighed wearily, I didn’t even really want to know what the big secret was. Whatever it was, it was probably a stupid thing to keep from me. Why didn’t they trust me? Why did they try to hide things? Did they really have so little faith in me? Rage boiled inside of me. You can’t treat me like an adult one moment and then like a child the next. I thought angrily.

In a huff I sat and looked around me for the first time. From where I was I couldn’t see the village and there was only the light of the nearly full moon. The trees whispered and crackled around me. It filled me with apprehension. I’d never been in the forest at night. I closed my eyes and listened. These were different noises, the hoot of an owl and the snap of a twig.

My eyes snapped opened, I stretched them as wide as I could, trying to take in as much light as I could while I searched in the direction the noise had come. It had been a clean snap, not a groan or crackle of a tree. Someone or something...

I stood trembling remembering all of the stories my elders had told me from when I was young. A ghost? no... ghosts didn’t have feet, it could be a witch or a goblin, maybe an ogre... My mind was in jumbles, hurrying over each thought and unable to focus on one thing.

A second clear snap brought my attention to the trees.

A sinister atmosphere seemed to creep in around me, stifling me.

My breath quickened and I froze. I didn’t know what to do. Was there anything I could do? Should I hide? Furiously I searched for a suitable place and found a fallen trunk that looked like it might shelter me. Several more noises galvanized me into action and I dove down behind the trunk, ignoring the scrapes and hard jabs I received. I quieted my breath as best as I could and huddled as close to the wood as possible without making too much noise... I hoped.

Whatever it was came closer, making small noises here and there. It was too quiet. Whatever it was knew how to move and stalk, a new wave of fear and dread washed through me and I huddled closer, praying and hoping he wouldn’t see me.

A pair of shining golden eyes with pupils angular, like a cat’s, looked over the fallen trunk at me and I screamed.