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bedofthistles · 1 year

Text

Locket

Its Moonacre week!

In which Maria drops her needle, Robin develops the bad habit of getting lost in pretty girl’s eyes, Sir Benjamin learns to get over himself, Loveday’s level of pettiness is tested, The Coeur De Noir has dealt with one too many Merryweather’s to last him a lifetime, The De Noir boys learn what it really means to be bossed around. And Maria is, unfortunately, truly and properly kidnapped.

Here's a link to where the story will be posted on Archive, or you can just read it here, but mind you its 5k :)

“There’s only one thing that can save us now!” Ms. Heliotrope shared a knowing smile.

“Classical. French. Needlepoint.” Maria said with her, no small amount of relief flooding through her.

The journey thus far had been terrible, but if she were to live in the countryside, she could at least preserve her more civil pastimes.

Ms. Heliotrope took out their most recent projects: matching, colorful, beautiful Fluer-De-Lis, embellished by little flowers, ribbons and birds. Ms. Heliotrope was much further along, but she had years of experience under her hands. She was quick and capable with the needle, and Maria - while quite skillful - took her time to make sure each stitch was perfect.

It took her a moment to realize the carriage had stopped, so focused as she was on her needlepoint.

Ms. Heliotrope called for Mr. Digweed, and Maria stuck her head out of the window to find that he was standing before a wrought iron gate. He fiddled with a ring of keys, and it seemed their journey could only go on once it was opened.

“Must be a half-wit!” Ms. Heliotrope muttered snidely after Mr. Digweed did not answer their calls.

Maria laughed, and pulled herself back inside, only to be grabbed, roughly around her shoulders. Now, Maria had never been grabbed so forceful! Ms. Heliotrope was always kind and gentle, and even when she smacked Maria’s wrist with a ruler, it was little more than a quick, reprimanding snap. Her father held her tightly in goodbye hugs, pulling her to him, picking her up in his arms when she was small. His hands had been firm, and strong, and she knew she would not fall. Other than that, no one had ever really touched her, or had any reason to.

So when sharp fingers dug into Maria’s arms and began to remove her from the carriage window, there was very little she could do besides scream. And scream she did!

Furthermore, Maria was a Lady, she had never been disciplined in manners of self-defense (a word that was not even in her lexicon). She had only ever met gentlemen with respectful hands, or other young ladies with soft, gloved fingers like her own. But, Maria knew how sharp her needle was, for in the early days of sewing and embroidery, she had pricked her fingers countless times. As it was her only weapon, she took it in her hand, raised it to the one on her arm, and dropped it.

Maria blinked in surprise as the needle fell to the dirt road beneath her, and disappeared in a cloud of dust.

“Maria!” Ms. Heliotrope called, her hands around Maria’s waist in a wasted effort to save her, but Ms. Heliotrope herself had been torn from the carriage. The old governess screamed, loud and shrill, as she herself was ripped away and thrown to the ground.

“Ms. Heliotrope!” But Maria’s assailant was at last successful, and yanked her out through the window.

Maria struggled against the sharp hands, before she fell onto the dirt road. (Which was a very long way to go when you were more or less hoisted to the top of the carriage.) Maria caught herself on her hands, her palms scraping against the dirt and gravel as she hissed in pain. Maria brushed her shaking hands and began searching the ground for her needle, but her Assailant jumped from the carriage roof and landed beside her.

His hands took purchase on her shoulders, and he wrenched her to her feet, before he whipped her around, and Maria recognized him.

“Where are they!”

The boy from London, at her father’s funeral.

He shook her again, but she was frozen, unable to say anything.

The very boy who had watched her from afar and disappeared as if into thin air!

He looked away from her, to where she could hear Digweed running towards them, and he shoved her.

Suddenly, Maria was running, her hand caught in his.

“No! Let go of me!” Maria dug her heels into the ground, and he stopped. She almost thought she would be able to get away, but the next moment he had thrown her over his shoulder and was running once more.

To truly understand the predicament Maria found herself in, one must remember that Maria Merryweather was what one might call sheltered. Born and raised in a beautiful townhouse, in the very center of London, she was never without Ms. Heliotrope, or the servants of her house. Then, beside the butler (who more or less handled Father’s accounts in Father’s office while Father was away) and her Father (who was away more often than not, sometimes for months at a time. Maria was surrounded by women. And, above all, Maria was from London, while not free of crime, she had certainly never been the victim of any robberies, burglaries, assaults, murders, or kidnappings, as her shopping expeditions kept her on the safe side.

So, to be carted around the countryside, in the arms of a strange man, who had been stalking her since London, was not in Maria’s wheelhouse of expertise.

It took Miss. Maria a moment to catch her breath, another to realize they had entered some kind of forest, and a final moment to get her voice back.

“You put me down this second!” She said, each word punctuated with a sharp smack to his back.

Her Assailant jostled her, her stomach landed painfully on his shoulder, before he himself spoke. “No can do, Princess, unless you tell me where the Pearls are.”

Suddenly, the other highwayman - who had shoved Ms. Heliotrope to the ground - broke through the trees. “Robin! They’re trying to come after us!”

“Shit.” Her Assailant - Robin - hissed. “Go that way, make noise, make a mess, leave an obvious trail, and circle back ‘round to the road.”

The Highwayman - who, now that Maria got a good look at his face, couldn’t have even been eighteen - nodded and followed the order, disappearing back into the trees without a moment’s hesitation.

This Highwayman was named Henry, and he was a member of the De Noir Clan, not that Maria would know any of this. He was an only child and had kept to himself most of his life. Henry was what most would consider well mannered and polite, but to the loud, rowdy, destructive De Noirs, he was odd. He had found for himself three good friends, one of which was Robin, but he was always afraid they would realize that he was just as odd as everyone said and would abandon him. But nevermind all that.

Maria did her best to escape Robin’s hold.

Her methods were not limited to, but included: wiggling like a fish, attempting to crawl down his back, kneeing his stomach, blowing in his ear, rolling, fainting, and tickling.

These methods made him: annoyed, irritated, and pissed off (though that word was not in Maria’s lexicon).

They hadn’t gotten far when Robin threw her from his shoulder.

As soon as he did, Maria ran, but clothed as she was in London’s most fashionable attire, she was woefully slow.

And her Assailant just so happened to not be wearing London’s latest fashion’s, and was much quicker.

His hand wrapped around her wrist, and while she tried to beat him with her other, much freer hand, he had just grabbed it. With her hands disabled, she began to kick his shins. It was working! She knew this because he was grimacing, and barely concealing his pathetic groans, she just had to keep this up, and she’d be back in Ms. Heliotrope’s arms in a-

Robin pulled tightly on the ropes that now surrounded her wrists.

“What-?”

She backed away from him, and tried to get her hands out, but they chafed against the thick rope. She looked up at him, aghast that he would dare tie up a young lady, but he had bent down and was lifting up her skirts!

Maria gasped loudly, she tried to back away, but he snatched her ankle. And she fell like a tree.

Maria had never fallen in this manner, and it quite hurt. There was a sharp jolt up her spine, and for a moment, she was convinced she had stopped breathing, and was about to die.

Please be mindful, she had never experienced anything like this before! Being bound and gagged - Robin did take the cotton mask off his nose and tied it tightly to her face - was something that happened in stories! And those were usually the kind she wasn’t allowed to read, as the mind of a young lady was too sensitive for such topics.

Her Assailant secured her two legs together, and tied the rope tightly, so she could not even wiggle her feet.

Maria was once again in a state of shock, and she began to truly fear for her life. She could not ask questions, but her fear must have been obvious to Robin.

A moment to introduce this Assailant.

Robin was a young boy with a heavy burden on his shoulders. He had been raised with the expectation that he would one day rise up and take over the De Noir Clan as Coeur De Noir.

However, it was clear to any and all that he was the Coeur De Noir’s biggest disappointment. And that was a very impressive thing to manage when your sister, the once pride and joy of the entire De Noir Clan, had been disowned for falling in love with a Merryweather.

Robin was a foolish boy, with foolish friends, and foolish interests, but he still longed for his father’s pride.

The most Robin had ever done was track and trap animals, mostly birds and hares, not girls. And, while it was true that the De Noir Clan did not have the best reputation (one might say their reputation was the blackest in all of Moonacre Valley, if not all of England, perhaps not the world, as they’re were plenty of evil people in the world) the De Noirs were innocent of half of the things they were accused of.

Kidnapping included.

When they had heard word that Maria Merryweather would be coming to Moonacre, it was clear that she would be the Moon Princess to break the curse. Or at least attempt to.

And the De Noirs could not have that.

Maria watched Robin’s lips part, and purse, part and purse, part and purse, before he spoke. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“At least!” Maria said, but really it sounded like “Arf veese!” through the gag.

“I promise, alright?”

Robin, unfortunately, had big eyes, big beautiful, soulful eyes, and he seemed so truthful, and the longer Maria stared up into his big, beautiful, brown eyes, the more she believed him. She nodded.

He nodded.

She was on his shoulder again.

Maria instantly cursed herself. How could she trust this person! How could she have ever even begun to believe a word he was saying! He was a kidnapper! Of course he would say anything to get her to comply!

He had tied her up! Gagged her! Kidnapped her!

She was thrown over his shoulder like a sack of flour!

Maria had always supposed she was a sensible girl, intelligent, and not so easily tricked. But of course, there was a difference between supposing and application.

Most of the time, people who think they’d be brave and strong in certain situations, often aren’t.

Still, Maria didn’t want to be lugged around like luggage, so she began to work at the gag, moving her mouth until it was out of her mouth, then on her chin, before she reached up…

With her hands…

Maria furrowed her brow. For a kidnapper, he wasn’t a good one, was he? He should have tied her hands behind her back, rather than right in front of her!

Maria pulled the gag around her neck and lifted herself up onto her elbows (prodding them into his back and shoulder was just an added benefit) “Please, tell me where we’re going?”

He jumped in surprise, and he tried to look back at her (an impossible feat, really, since when you turn your head, you're bombarded with the side of the person you have hoisted on your shoulder) before he turned his eyes back to the road.

“Castle Black.”

Maria did not know what that was. “Why?”

“Because, Moon Princess.”

Maria shook her head. “I’m not a Princess, and I’m not even sure what a Moon Princess is supposed to be.”

“You’re a Merryweather aren’t you?” He asked, glaring down at his feet in confusion (hoping that he had not kidnapped the wrong person).

Maria rolled her eyes. “Yes.”

“Maria Merryweather?”

“Yes!”

“Then you’re the Moon Princess.”

She groaned. “I still don’t know what that is!”

He paused, and while she didn’t see it, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “It's you! The Moon Princess is you!”

“That makes no sense!” She placed her hands on his shoulder in an attempt to look him in the eye. “What am I? Princess of the Moon!”

“No! Don’t be ridiculous-!”

But she had finally managed to escape his hold, only she hadn’t been trying to.

As she lifted herself up onto his shoulder, the hold he had around her knees wasn’t expecting her weight, so she slipped right through. Maria fell to the floor and Robin caught her in his arms as she tumbled backwards, unable to balance due to her feet being tangled together, and her tied hands were caught between his chest and her own.

To Maria, this was incredibly uncomfortable. To be pressed to someone so closely, that she had no proper relations with other than that he was her kidnapper, was hardly appropriate, and while they were in the middle of a forest, Maria looked around to make sure no one would see her in such a compromising position.

To Robin, this was incredibly uncomfortable, but for completely different reasons. The one woman he had ever been remotely close to was his sister, who had abandoned him when he was seven years old. To say he was inexperienced with women didn’t come close to the truth of the matter, which was that he didn’t know any women (his father’s consort hardly counted). To hold Maria Merryweather in his arms was a feeling he was unprepared to deal with.

And, well, no one wants to read on and on about ‘soft, feminine bodies’ because that’s gross. Besides, that wasn’t what made Robin so uncomfortable. It was one of the things, to be sure, but not the major one.

Maria had lovely eyes. A charming mix of green and brown, with little speckles around her iris, and long lashes that framed them.

Robin did not make a habit of getting lost in the eyes of pretty girls, but all habits start somewhere, and his may have very well begun here.

Maria swallowed thickly, and pushed at his chest. He stepped away, but did not let go, lest she fall. “Now, please, tell me: what is a Moon Princess?”

Robin blinked, and shook his head sharply. “A Moon Princess- I don’t know how to describe it without giving you the full story.”

“Give me the full story then.” She commanded, and despite the ropes that adorned her wrists and ankles, she gave the impression of being the one in charge.

It seemed as if Robin was going to consider it, before Henry broke through the trees.

Robin quickly bent down, and picked her back up, making her yelp at its suddenes.

“They’ll be running in circles ‘til nightfall!” Henry proclaimed proudly.

“Good, that gives us plenty of time, let's go.”

Maria spent the rest of the journey planning her escape.

Henry walked ahead of Robin, quicker without a heavy burden, and Robin did not have eyes in the back of his head, so neither saw as Maria used her teeth to untie the knot on her rope. To reiterate, Robin was not a good kidnapper.

Of course, untying the knot would not solve her feet being strung together. Nevertheless, Maria bit, and spit out fibers, and pulled with her teeth, until it fell loose. It almost fell to the floor, but she caught, and wrapped it loosely around her hands, tucking the end in, so it looked as if her hands were still bound.

It was at this moment that two other boys came out to greet them.

“Robin! There you are! You’ve been gone- Robin, the hell is that?”

Maria heard his gentle huff. “The Moon Princess!”

“The Moon Princess!” One laughed in disbelief, and she tried to lift herself up and look over her shoulder at the two.

“Stole ‘er right outta ‘er carriage.” Henry supplied, crossing his arms in a misplaced sense of superiority.

“Did you?” The last one said, he was quieter than the others, and Maria twisted around to see him.

Robin had picked Henry to come along because of the four of them, he was the strongest, and when kidnapping someone, it made sense to bring someone strong to do the heavy lifting. Of course, Robin was still holding Maria, and Henry was not.

“Maria Merryweather.” Robin said, “The Moon Princess.”

One of them whistled. “Impressive!”

“We’re taking her to my father. Let’s get a move on.”

The two come to the other side of Robin, and Maria glared at them.

“More Highwaymen?”

One smirked. “We’re a package deal, your Highness!”

The other one simply glared at her.

These boys were Richard and David, respectively, of the group Richard was the most nimble, he was an excellent lock picker, and a good distraction, especially if it was a lady who needed distracting. Then there was David. David was a very dangerous thing: intelligent. He was the slightest of them all, and rather scrawny, but he had a mind for strategy. He was slow to trust, but adroit in the De Noir business. Which was, of course, preserving their black reputation.

Maria looked between the two of them, before deciding it was best to keep her eyes on the forest floor. And her hands, to make sure the rope never fell off.

When at last they came to Castle Black (which had once been foreboding and treacherous, but was now falling apart, and mended haphazardly with ill-fitting wooden structures) Robin set her down on the ground and cut through the ropes around her feet.

“Let’s go.” He said, and rather gingerly, wrapped his arm around her bicep.

The boys had formed a circle around her, Robin at her side, Henry ahead of her, David on her other side, and Richard behind, so no one touched her, so no one could really see her.

Castle Black was not home to many of the De Noir Clan, as a village rested on the other side of the hill. The men that were there, were guards, or workers of the house, however.

When they came through the gate and up the courtyard, the men gathered around them, forming a jeering and taunting crowd. As she walked by, they shouted and catcalled, the likes of which Maria had never before heard.

“C’mon, Robin, let me take ‘er to the Coeur!”

“Got yerself a lil’ Moon Princess, eh boy?”

“Let me haves a look!”

She did her best to ignore them, but her jaw trembled, how could these men be so cruel?

She wasn’t even fourteen.

Someone threw something, and it landed on her face. She came to an abrupt halt and gasped sharply, her hands swiped away what she was sure were the rotten remains of a tomato.

“Henry.” Robin said, and Henry broke off from the group, David came to stand slightly in front of her, and she heard the sounds of a fight breaking out.

Her head whipped around to see Henry’s fist colliding with a man’s jaw. She gasped at the violence and tripped over her own feet, before Robin righted her and led her on.

Straight into the Castle’s maw of a front door.

The jeering men followed after them, into the dark halls, and she felt something pull at her bustle.

A startled yelp escaped her throat, and she spun around just in time to see Richard’s hand twisting a man’s wrist. The man groaned in pain as he fell to the floor.

“Come along.” Robin whispered, his hand squeezing her arm, and trying to make her walk a little faster.

They came out into an open, imposing hall, covered in images of roaring lions and snakes, lit with fire, filled with harsh laughter, and men in dark hooded cloaks.

A falcon sheriked, everything stopped, and all eyes were on Maria.

“Well! What do we have here?” A man stood from his chair, and Maria got the feeling that he was very important, as he looked down his nose at her.

She was right, of course. This was the Coeur De Noir, a ferocious, cruel, merciless man (if you believed all that was said about him). A tyrant, a mercenary, an outlaw, save here in his own Castle.

To understand the Coeur, one must understand his position.

Moonacre Valley was a bountiful land, the last truly magical place in all the world, and it was his (and the Merryweather’s) in days of old. The De Noir’s had to defend their home from peril and invaders, but it was never enough. It wasn’t until one of the Coeurs, many moons ago, came up with the plan to become a great evil. Or at least, make it appear that they were a great evil.

Suddenly, the De Noir Clan was feared, and none dared to even enter the forest that they so zealously guarded.

Ever since, every Coeur was given the same task: to be black, dangerous, and terrifying.

What more, this particular Coeur knew that the very next full moon would bring about the end of the Merryweathers. It was a great honor, and it was his fate to be champion of Moonacre, so long as he did not fail.

“Welcome, Moon Princess.” He said, when Robin pushed her before him. Maria stumbled, but did not fall.

As scared as she was - and she was terrified - she did not let it show, choosing instead to glare up at the man.

“Robin, I had no idea you would be bringing me such a present! Well done.”

Robin swallowed, unused to the praise, and not quite sure he liked what he was being praised for. His lips twitched into a semblance of a smile.

The Coeur De Noir grinned at Maria, he stepped down from the platform his table was raised up on, and knelt down next to her.

“Your downfall means our victory.” His smile was carved deep into his face, curling like devil’s smoke. “Throw her in the dungeons!”

The men around her burst into vicious cheers, and Robin was hauling her away once more.

He and the three other Highwaymen lead her past the gathered crowds, and to the prison tower.

They crossed a rickety bridge, and Maria got her first real glimpse of Moonacre Valley. She could hardly believe how beautiful it truly was. London was smoke, and stone, manners and restriction; the Valley was anything but that. Vibrant, and alive, and green, and majestic, but all too soon, her view was stolen from her, and she remembered that she was being taken to a dungeon.

Robin let go of her arm in favor of jabbing at her already abused spine to propel her down the cell-lined hall.

“Leave me alone, you oaf!” She spun around and shouted at him, her annoyance eclipsing her terror. She had had a long and dreadful day; she had been kidnapped, tied up, taunted, she was without her Ms. Heliotrope, being escorted to a dungeon, and this stupid, rude, boy of a criminal still had a mind to push her around! She had had enough, and did not care any longer about propriety, or her fear, or his eyes!

Robin leaned down, so their faces were level, “You know, for someone in your current predicament, I have to admire your spirit.”

But her feet were free, and his legs were parted, and if Maria knew one thing, it was how to kick.

(Maria, of course, would not know until much later why kicking a man betwixt his legs hurt so much, as a woman’s education on male anatomy was saved until the night of her wedding. Maria merely knew that kicking would be effective in some manner. Not that she knew she was kicking his manhood.)

Her knee met his crotch, and he crumpled in pain. The boys behind him burst into laughter, before he launched himself at her.

“Feisty, that one is!” One of them shouted.

“Witch!” And his hands were once again rough and painful as he shoved her in the last cell.

“I wouldn’t take that from her, Robin!” The boys taunted, “What’re you gonna do, toss her out?”

“Hey! Lock her in!” Robin snapped at the guard.

“Right, sir.”

With one final push, she stumbled into the cell, and the door slammed in her face.

Robin waved mockingly at her, but she didn’t care about that.

She cared about how stupid she had been.

The boys laughed as they walked away, leaving her in the cage, locking her away like she was nothing.

“Guard watch her, she’s slippery.” Robin called out, casting her one last glance over his shoulder. There was, of course, some remorse that she had missed.

Robin wasn’t a bad person, despite the fact that that was what he was born to be, and he couldn’t stop the sour taste in his mouth, as their eyes met.

The cell door locked. The guard turned away, back to rest in his chair. Maria ripped the rope from her hands and threw it to the floor. She scampred around the cell, looking out the windows, only to find them barred, and high out of her reach. Other than that, there was no way out.

Maria huffed, and sat down on the floor, rubbing her red wrists as she tried not to cry.

She began to play with the little bauble that was left to her by her mother.

It was Saturn, the sixth planet. Maria untied it from her neck, and unlatched it. The inside was hollow, and contained the mementos of her mother.

A lock of her mother’s hair, a pretty curl, that shined in the light like freshly fallen snow.

A little ring, too big to ever fit on Maria’s child-sized hand. She was pleased to find that it did fit now, on her forefinger. A golden band, with a large pearl set in the middle.

A tear catcher, filled by her mother’s final tears. It was a small, dark blue bottle that contained little liquid, because her mother had been strong, and she had not cried on her deathbed. She only shed tears as she kissed her daughter goodbye.

That was what Ms. Heliotrope had told her, however untrue it may be.

These were her greatest treasures; the very last of what she had of her mother. Maria wore it in times of great tribulation - or when it matched her outfit - and she was glad she had worn it that day.

Because this was perhaps the greatest tribulation she had ever faced.

She returned her items to the locket, and wept bitterly.

☾

Ms. Heliotrope and the one she called “Dogwood” ran through the woods for hours, each thinking they saw the back of the two young men’s black clothes, before rushing after them, only to find an empty glade.

“There she is!” Ms. Heliotrope cried, she had seen her ward’s lovely blue travel dress, but as she leapt from the brush and looked around, she realized they had made it back to the place where they had started. “Oh, damn it all!” Ms. Heliotrope beat her fists against her thighs, and squeezed her eyes shut tight, not allowing herself to cry.

Mr. Digweed burst out of the bush and bumped into her.

“Oh! Mr. Dogwood, please!”

“Sorry, ma’am!” He looked away bashfully, before he saw the carriage too. “That’ll be us, then.”

“What do you mean?”

Mr. Digweed stepped around the frazzled city woman and made his way up the steep hill to the coach.

“Mr. Dogwood! What about Maria-”

“Well, you see ma’am, there’s not much more we can do! I don’t know the forest, and you are run ragged!”

Ms. Heliotrope blinked away tears. “So- so Maria is gone? Forever?”

“Of course not! I know who took ‘er!” And he smiled proudly.

“You know- who, my man! Who!”

He jumped, and held his arms in front of his face as if she were close to attacking him (she was). “The De Noirs, ma’am, the De Noirs! We need to tell Sir Benjamin, ma’am! Right away!”

Ms. Heliotrope glanced back over the shoulder, to the woods where she had been led on a wild goose chase, and relented. “Very well.”

Mr. Digweed helped her back into the coach, and whipped the horses onward.

Ms. Heliotrope picked up her needlepoint, but she did not have the heart to continue.

The gate was only an hour away from the Manor, but time seemed to drag, and she feared the very worst for her poor girl.

Ms. Heliotrope was a proud, intelligent, and sacrificial woman. She had been teaching young girls for most of her adult life, but she had always been fondest of a young girl named Elizabeth. Who was a bit sarcastic, a bit stubborn, and a bit foolhardy. She always made Ms. Heliotrope laugh, and when Ms. Heliotrope had doubts about her noble pursuits, she merely thought of her dear Eliza, and carried on. When Eliza married, and grew pregnant, there was no doubt in anyone’s mind who could be there for her. Ms. Heliotrope had even assisted in the birth! Very much out of her wheelhouse, and when Eliza passed, Ms. Heliotrope promised she would always look after Maria.

So, for Maria to be- For Maria… Ms. Heliotrope couldn’t bear to even put her worry in words. And her settled stomach became quite unsettled.

When at last they arrived, Sir Benjamin stood in the shadowy doorway like a phantom. “Welcome to Moonacre Manor.” He said as Mr. Digweed opened Ms. Heliotrope’s door and led her out.

“Sir Benjamin, Sir-!” Mr Digweed began, but so did Ms. Heliotrope, and they spoke over one another.

“Sir! Not an hour from this very doorstep, we were accosted-:”

“-Those nasty, De Noirs, sir! I know they’re the ones behind-”

“-Frightened for my life!”

“-but they were too quick for us, sir, and got away-”

“-Please, Sir Benjamin, you must-”

“Enough.” Sir Benjamin’s voice was clear, and firm, enough to put anyone in their place, but that kind of authority came with being an English Lord. “Where is my niece?”

“That’s what we’re trying to tell you, Sir.” Digweed swallowed, and averted his eyes. “The De Noirs, Sir, they took her.”

“What? What do you mean?” Sir Benjamin’s shrewd eyes jumped between them, but they shriveled under his gaze.

This is when Ms. Heliotrope began to cry in earnest. Mr Digweed was quick to wrap his arm around her shoulders and usher her inside, as Sir Benjamin rolled his eyes and stepped out of their way.

“Digweed, bring me my whip!” Sir Benjamin called, leaving at once to the stables to ready his horse for departure, it was time he paid the De Noir’s a visit. “After you calm that woman down, that is.”

#tsom #moonacreweek2023 #locket #im very excited for this upcoming week!#I may make some edits to this later #merrynoir #benday #the secret of moonacre #fanfiction #my writing

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awordwasthebeginning · 1 year

Text

Moonacre Week 2023

Day 01: Locket

1423

“We should have known not to trust him.” George Merryweather gnashed his teeth as his wife cleaned the deep cut in his leg with the sourest wine she could have found. “Everyone knows de Noir is still more French than English, despite his family having been here for generations – argh!”

He jerked his leg away, knocking over the bowl in the process. Bloodied water spilled and drenched his wife’s skirt as well as the straw on the floor.

Lady Eliza sighed. “You need to hold still. The wound needs to be sown shut. Bite on your belt if you must, or a spoon.”

George scoffed. “Come here, Ben.”

His younger brother had been leaning against the wall next to the window, where a gentle draught made the heat almost bearable. Now he uncrossed his arms and came closer. “What for?”

“Hold my leg while ‘Liza sows it.” George stretched the limb. Fresh drops of blood welled from the wound.

Benjamin knelt on the floor and put his weight on his brother’s leg. “I suppose”, he said while Eliza threaded a vile-looking needle, “this means I will not be marrying Lady Loveday?”

“Definitely no- aurgh! – not.”

“If I did,” Benjamin said, voice strained, “we might own de Noir’s land within a few years.”

“You might own it, you mean.” George gripped his shoulder so hard Benjamin would see the bruises days after. “And you don’t know that. He’ll marry again, and father another little bastard who will take that land from you – aaaargh – no, we’ll let him be branded as the traitor he is.”

“By whom?” Benjamin asked scornfully. “The King? He’s not two years old, and the Queen is French, in case you had forgotten.”

George glared at him but did not say another word before Eliza had finished tending to his wound. The silence in the chamber matched the sweltering heat outside.

Suddenly a voice piped up. “Doesn’t Sir de Noir have a son already?”

The three adults looked up in alarm. In the shadowy corner of the room, Eliza and George’s young daughter put down her needlework. “The men said so.”

George took a deep breath, but Eliza was faster. “Maria, my dear,” she said. “Fetch me some more water, please. I need to clean the wound before I wrap it.”

Maria gave the floor a sullen look but got up and picked an earthenware jug from the shelf with which she left the room.

Only then, George exhaled.

“Ben,” he said sharply. “Go talk to the men. She mustn’t know about the de Noir brat.”

Maria trudged down the stairs, clutching the jug to her chest. Her mother wasn’t there, and so she allowed herself to look as sullen as possible. They never told her anything! She knew her father and uncle had returned from a successful battle and had been attacked on the way up from the coast, by de Noir men, her father had said. She understood all that. She knew all about politics. She understood why de Noir couldn’t be trusted, and why Benjamin mustn’t marry de Noir’s daughter, obviously. And she was sure – she was sure! – that de Noir had a son. She knew it! So why would they send her from the room as if that was something she should not know or talk about?

With all the possible indignation of a nine-year-old, she shoved open the door to the courtyard. The full heat of the midday sun hit her like a wave. Squinting, she made her way across the yard towards the well. The roof built above it offered barely any shadow or shelter, and she hurried to fill the jug with wonderfully cool water.

However, she was reluctant to go back inside. She was still vexed at her hurried dismissal. The adults could wait a little longer. The old stable-hand had told her that the dog had had her litter. She had meant to see for herself, and this was as good an opportunity as any. So she covered the jug with a cloth, and made her way around the stable towards the kennel.

There were no dogs in the kennel, newborn or otherwise. It was quite exposed to the sun. Perhaps the dog had found a more comfortable place to raise her pups. However, the kennel was locked, and as Maria approached, what had looked like a lump of old rags turned out to be a creature that raised its head weakly and looked at her through the wooden bars.

Maria gasped and took a step back. It was a man – a very young one, a boy even – but how miserable he looked! Dirty and bloodied, wild dark eyes in a face so smudged with mud it had been indistinguishable from the ground on which he lay.

This had to be one of the prisoners her father had taken, she realised. They had talked about having caught some of de Noir’s men, and she knew that not all of them were downstairs in the cellars.

Fascinated and curious, she approached the kennel again. When she was standing directly in front of the bars, he moved towards her, slowly. A metallic rattle made her aware of the iron chain which normally held the dangerous dogs at bay, and the iron ring of which was now fastened around his neck. Like he was the dangerous dog.

He did not look dangerous, she thought. He looked very weak. Like an old dog, or one of the beggars she had seen in London when her father had taken her there last summer. Weak, and miserable. How could he not be, out here in the sun, with no protection? The dogs had water, at least, did he not…? She saw the empty wooden cup, not a foot away from the bars.

Slowly, as if he was a dog, she reached out and picked the cup from the ground. She felt him watch her as she filled it with water from the jug. Carefully, she pushed the cup back through the bars and towards him.

He reached for it with a terribly thin arm.

“Slowly,” she said, echoing her mother’s words, as he began to down the water in hasty gulps. “Your stomach needs to get used to it first.”

He glared at her but obeyed when she refilled his cup three more times.

“The jug is almost empty,” she said. “I will have to fetch more water and come back later.” Then she turned her head. Someone on the other side of the stables was calling her name.

“Maria! Maria! Where is that child?”

“They’re looking for me,” she said to the boy in the kennel. “I have to go. I will come back.”

He reached out a hand. The gesture was accompanied by another metallic sound, but it wasn’t as loud and cruel as that of the iron chain around his neck, merely a small tinkle.

She held out her palm, and he placed something on it.

“I wish I could have lived so I could marry you.”

Maria stared at him, confused. She opened her mouth to say something, ask what on earth he meant, but the steps and calls were coming closer. She closed her fingers around the metal object, picked up the jug, and left, as if chased by the burning intensity of the boy’s gaze and the bitterness in his words.

Benjamin scolded her for taking so long, and not even having fetched water yet. “What have you been doing, you silly child, dilly-dallying around the castle? Is such an easy task too hard for you? Can’t you obey your mother’s orders for once?”

Maria swallowed. “I…I wanted to see the puppies. The dog had her puppies, Digweed says.”

She did not know why she lied, but if she told Benjamin about the boy in the kennel, she would have to tell him about the water, and the boy’s words, and the thing that was still pressing into her palm, and it felt safer not to.

“Puppies!” Benjamin imitated her high voice. “Well, I’m glad you’ve had your fun. Get the water now, your father is getting cranky. He won’t be happy you took so long.”

Her father could fetch the water for his stupid wound himself next time, Maria thought rebelliously, or not get wounded in the first place. Her expression sullener than ever, she filled the jug once more. When Benjamin wasn’t looking in her direction, she opened her palm.

A locket. A small silver locket, slightly dented so it didn’t close properly, but without any stains of mud or blood. A sun was engraved on one side, a moon on the other. It would have been a perfect lovers’ locket, Maria realised, and she also realised that it would have to stay her secret. Nobody could know that she had this. Nobody could know about what the boy in the kennel had said to her. She slipped the locket into her purse and picked up the jug.

Maria was sleeping soundly that night. She did not hear the carriage, the creaking of wooden bars, the cruel tinkling of iron chain links, did not hear whispered orders and muffled cries.

The boy in the kennel was gone the next day, and the locket weighed almost nothing in her purse.

#moonacreweek2023 #fic: did you miss me?#awordwasthebeginning writes #loquor #tw: period-accurate cruelty; wounds; dehydration; implied character death

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