Lizzie B Member
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- Lizzie B 11 yrs ago
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Oh...this is odd. Convenient, but odd.
"Lucy...Lucy! Lucille Weathers, slow down this instant!"
It was funny, the warped perspective one could conceive of the world when they were trapped inside for so long. Every morning she made her way over to the window, pushing it wide open, leaning out into whatever weather had found their tiny village. Sometimes it was sun that warm her cheeks, others icy rain, but Addie always lingered. The was freedom, unknown freedom, and she could do nothing but try to remember what the view from her window had once been. Was there a pond? A field? Surely there was forest, but the details had escaped her as the years passed without her sight. Once or twice she had considered asking her mother, but the woman had become sad and hardened as their quality of life deteriorated. After all, why shouldn't she? An invalid for a daughter, long days of weaving until her fingers bled, a husband who was so distraught about money he could hardly function. Her lot in life was to make herself as little a nuisance possible, and that meant imagining what was outside her window, dreaming of what it would be like to run again.
Well, it wasn't nearly as freeing as she'd hoped.
They'd finished curling their hair, her dark auburn curls pinned up in tight ringlets that made her head ache. Corset laces were drawn tight, dresses were pulled on, and the girls had made a point to marvel over hers. Apparently it was a beautiful powder blue, with silvery roses branching out from the bottom of the skirt. Her mother had made it at a Christmas present, but Addie soon realized pretty clothes were of little use to her. She couldn't see herself, after all, and no one could afford a useless wife. As Mary Beth complained about her own coarse dress Addie was half tempted to take her own off and throw it at the girl, but it never would have fit. Her body seemed to grow softer and softer each time they hugged, and course material was all you could afford when there was so much to cover. Her parents would be arriving later, so she kissed her mother goodbye at the door, holding tightly to Lucille's arm as the girl dragged her towards the Lord's estate. Much. Too. Fast.
One minute the world was at her fingertips, the next she was trying not to stumble and fall on the uneven path. Lucille was far less concerned about her comfort and safety, chattering excitedly about the possibility of wedding the Lord's son. "It has to be him, don't you agree? Lord Lucien is trying to become closer with the people, and what better way than inviting one of us into his family? Of course it'll have to be a pretty girl. And..." Useful. Whole. They both knew what she wasn't saying. "Well, all hope's gone for poor Mary." An insult to hide an insult, how clever. The other girl's had rushed ahead, leaving Lucy with invalid duty. "I just don't think it will be him." Addie admitted, breathing a little heavily as they pushed forward at an incredible speed. It was absolutely terrifying. The heels of her slippers wobbled on damp cobblestone, and everything was so utterly black. It was no different than being home, really...except cold, uncertain, and somehow darker than usual.
"I mean-, Ow! Lucy!"
"Oh. Watch out for that lamp post."
Fortunately, they made it to the Lord's mansion with little more than a growing bruise on Addie's shoulder. The music met them long before they arrived, and the smell of food wafted out into the night air along with the warmth that came from inside the doors. They were drawn to it like moth's to flame, and for the first time in Lucille's life, she was silent. Suspense taking over, Addie prodded "What's it like? What does it look like?" It sounded, smelled and felt like heaven. Undesirable bachelor or not, it was difficult to care as she breathed in the tell tale smells of bread, meat and pie. "Lucy?"
"It's magic." The girl breathed, squeezing Addie's arm. "There's huge tables lines with food along the wall, apparently you just fix a plate? There are a few tables as well, but most of the floor had been reserved for dancing. Everything's so clean and expensive."
"What are we going to do?"
"Well we can dance together and look utterly queer, or we can eat."
"I'd prefer food."
She trusted Lucy with her plate for the most part, afraid to spill food on her expensive gown. They found a small rounded table with soft, expensive chairs, and the other girls finally caught up. They were chattering on about handsome men they'd seen, and there was a small argument about what exactly Lord Lucien's son looked like. "He's blonde. Everyone knows he's a blonde." Hannah insisted, and Lucille made an impatient hiss between her teeth. "It is not. It's like Addie's, that dark red." Addie jumped in to protest around a mouth full of raspberry tart. "My hair is brown." She insisted, and Lucille gave a tired sigh. It was a common argument between them. "It is not. It's a dark red, possibly an auburn, but it's definitely now brown. Give it up Addie, you're a ginger." Not to mention she wasn't the most qualified person to argue over the appearance of...well, anything.
It was funny, the warped perspective one could conceive of the world when they were trapped inside for so long. Every morning she made her way over to the window, pushing it wide open, leaning out into whatever weather had found their tiny village. Sometimes it was sun that warm her cheeks, others icy rain, but Addie always lingered. The was freedom, unknown freedom, and she could do nothing but try to remember what the view from her window had once been. Was there a pond? A field? Surely there was forest, but the details had escaped her as the years passed without her sight. Once or twice she had considered asking her mother, but the woman had become sad and hardened as their quality of life deteriorated. After all, why shouldn't she? An invalid for a daughter, long days of weaving until her fingers bled, a husband who was so distraught about money he could hardly function. Her lot in life was to make herself as little a nuisance possible, and that meant imagining what was outside her window, dreaming of what it would be like to run again.
Well, it wasn't nearly as freeing as she'd hoped.
They'd finished curling their hair, her dark auburn curls pinned up in tight ringlets that made her head ache. Corset laces were drawn tight, dresses were pulled on, and the girls had made a point to marvel over hers. Apparently it was a beautiful powder blue, with silvery roses branching out from the bottom of the skirt. Her mother had made it at a Christmas present, but Addie soon realized pretty clothes were of little use to her. She couldn't see herself, after all, and no one could afford a useless wife. As Mary Beth complained about her own coarse dress Addie was half tempted to take her own off and throw it at the girl, but it never would have fit. Her body seemed to grow softer and softer each time they hugged, and course material was all you could afford when there was so much to cover. Her parents would be arriving later, so she kissed her mother goodbye at the door, holding tightly to Lucille's arm as the girl dragged her towards the Lord's estate. Much. Too. Fast.
One minute the world was at her fingertips, the next she was trying not to stumble and fall on the uneven path. Lucille was far less concerned about her comfort and safety, chattering excitedly about the possibility of wedding the Lord's son. "It has to be him, don't you agree? Lord Lucien is trying to become closer with the people, and what better way than inviting one of us into his family? Of course it'll have to be a pretty girl. And..." Useful. Whole. They both knew what she wasn't saying. "Well, all hope's gone for poor Mary." An insult to hide an insult, how clever. The other girl's had rushed ahead, leaving Lucy with invalid duty. "I just don't think it will be him." Addie admitted, breathing a little heavily as they pushed forward at an incredible speed. It was absolutely terrifying. The heels of her slippers wobbled on damp cobblestone, and everything was so utterly black. It was no different than being home, really...except cold, uncertain, and somehow darker than usual.
"I mean-, Ow! Lucy!"
"Oh. Watch out for that lamp post."
Fortunately, they made it to the Lord's mansion with little more than a growing bruise on Addie's shoulder. The music met them long before they arrived, and the smell of food wafted out into the night air along with the warmth that came from inside the doors. They were drawn to it like moth's to flame, and for the first time in Lucille's life, she was silent. Suspense taking over, Addie prodded "What's it like? What does it look like?" It sounded, smelled and felt like heaven. Undesirable bachelor or not, it was difficult to care as she breathed in the tell tale smells of bread, meat and pie. "Lucy?"
"It's magic." The girl breathed, squeezing Addie's arm. "There's huge tables lines with food along the wall, apparently you just fix a plate? There are a few tables as well, but most of the floor had been reserved for dancing. Everything's so clean and expensive."
"What are we going to do?"
"Well we can dance together and look utterly queer, or we can eat."
"I'd prefer food."
She trusted Lucy with her plate for the most part, afraid to spill food on her expensive gown. They found a small rounded table with soft, expensive chairs, and the other girls finally caught up. They were chattering on about handsome men they'd seen, and there was a small argument about what exactly Lord Lucien's son looked like. "He's blonde. Everyone knows he's a blonde." Hannah insisted, and Lucille made an impatient hiss between her teeth. "It is not. It's like Addie's, that dark red." Addie jumped in to protest around a mouth full of raspberry tart. "My hair is brown." She insisted, and Lucille gave a tired sigh. It was a common argument between them. "It is not. It's a dark red, possibly an auburn, but it's definitely now brown. Give it up Addie, you're a ginger." Not to mention she wasn't the most qualified person to argue over the appearance of...well, anything.
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