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FIC: Plain-faced Girl (Original)
TITLE: Plain-faced Girl
FANDOM: Original
RATING: M
WORDS: 476
WARNINGS: Domestic Abuse
Plain-faced Girl
Girls do not hit, she had been told. Girls are pretty and girls are sweet and girls have hearts of gold.
She had never liked gold.
Too flashy, too much like the hair of queens and princesses who simpered and pouted and waited for the golden haired knight.
Her hair was brown. Just brown.
But convention was convention, and so she had married the golden haired knight that came a’knocking to her father’s door. Tall, handsome and strong, with sea-blue eyes that made her own seem so pale, so odd.
He said he liked her brown hair.
Golden haired knights are happy-ever-after, she had been told. Golden haired knights are supposed to whisk you away to their castle, and golden haired knights have golden haired children, except for the youngest, who would be a girl, and her dead mother’s image.
But prettier, of course, for no one wanted tales of plain-faced girls.
The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to make you cry once you said ‘I thee wed’, and the golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to make you shatter as he locked the door. Didn’t the tales mention something about the wings of love? Something about being cherished and protected and safe and being able to fly?
They never mentioned the bruises.
Maybe her happy-ever-after was still to come, she had thought. Maybe this was the trial, the period of testing and of waiting for the shy knight, who had loved her since they were children, to take her away and love her and cherish her and make her smile. But the shy knight had married the pretty peasant girl, and made her a princess.
She had been the matron-of-honour with a false smile, and had not danced.
Girls are supposed to be modest, she had heard, and girls are supposed to be patient and kind and never judge a soul. But as she took her golden haired son and fled, she remembered that those girls were beautiful and brave.
She had been naïve, but the freckles across her nose had decreed that this wouldn’t save her.
The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to still love her. The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed care that she had gone, and the golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to drink and hit for the sting of her, and fight until he fought one too many, and then no more. He wasn’t supposed to die before he said sorry.
And she wasn’t supposed to cry at news or have her heart break all over again.
Perhaps she was supposed to kill herself and her son, drown in a river and be washed ashore, like the pretty peasant girl and her baby, and become a tragic ending. But she didn’t.
She was a plain-faced girl, and she was now free to make her own story.
FANDOM: Original
RATING: M
WORDS: 476
WARNINGS: Domestic Abuse
Girls do not hit, she had been told. Girls are pretty and girls are sweet and girls have hearts of gold.
She had never liked gold.
Too flashy, too much like the hair of queens and princesses who simpered and pouted and waited for the golden haired knight.
Her hair was brown. Just brown.
But convention was convention, and so she had married the golden haired knight that came a’knocking to her father’s door. Tall, handsome and strong, with sea-blue eyes that made her own seem so pale, so odd.
He said he liked her brown hair.
Golden haired knights are happy-ever-after, she had been told. Golden haired knights are supposed to whisk you away to their castle, and golden haired knights have golden haired children, except for the youngest, who would be a girl, and her dead mother’s image.
But prettier, of course, for no one wanted tales of plain-faced girls.
The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to make you cry once you said ‘I thee wed’, and the golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to make you shatter as he locked the door. Didn’t the tales mention something about the wings of love? Something about being cherished and protected and safe and being able to fly?
They never mentioned the bruises.
Maybe her happy-ever-after was still to come, she had thought. Maybe this was the trial, the period of testing and of waiting for the shy knight, who had loved her since they were children, to take her away and love her and cherish her and make her smile. But the shy knight had married the pretty peasant girl, and made her a princess.
She had been the matron-of-honour with a false smile, and had not danced.
Girls are supposed to be modest, she had heard, and girls are supposed to be patient and kind and never judge a soul. But as she took her golden haired son and fled, she remembered that those girls were beautiful and brave.
She had been naïve, but the freckles across her nose had decreed that this wouldn’t save her.
The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to still love her. The golden haired knight wasn’t supposed care that she had gone, and the golden haired knight wasn’t supposed to drink and hit for the sting of her, and fight until he fought one too many, and then no more. He wasn’t supposed to die before he said sorry.
And she wasn’t supposed to cry at news or have her heart break all over again.
Perhaps she was supposed to kill herself and her son, drown in a river and be washed ashore, like the pretty peasant girl and her baby, and become a tragic ending. But she didn’t.
She was a plain-faced girl, and she was now free to make her own story.