Fated

2: Astrid Faces the Consequences

I hear my mother screaming at my father from the next room.

"You should have been keeping her in line! Good god, do I have to do everything around here? A fox! She was seen reading to a fox! How hard is it to simply keep her inside if she wants to read!" She keeps saying read as if I was stealing or killing people. "You know young ladies are not supposed to be reading, or at least seen doing so!" Her referring to me as a young lady made me shudder, thinking of the implications that carried. "I can only imagine how many townsfolk saw her! And what they're saying!" I can just see her putting her hand to her forehead, feigning feeling faint due to my actions and the lack of care from my father. I imagine he's pretending to be concerned to avoid a greater wrath from my mother. 

She continues to drone on about how I should be learning the trades of noble women, like sewing and baking. I am twenty seven years old, I should be able to choose my own path. Sewing and baking bore me. I've honestly tried to be a good daughter, a good Harlow. I've tried to be everything that's expected of me. It wasn't enough, and on top of that, nothing caught my interest. My interests, for as long as I can remember, lie in reading and writing, and nature- specifically the foxes. I admire their freedom, and envy the fact they have a pack. I've never once felt like I've had a pack, or even one person on my side. I've always felt that in order to be accepted, there's certain criteria that need to be met. I made a home in the books, in my own writing, in the foxes.

My mother stormed through the sitting room, glaring at me. She only paused for a moment to spit "you'd better behave yourself at the festival, young lady." I shuddered again as she walked away. I imagine she's off to the sewing room now.

My father meekly emerges from the study as if to make sure she's gone.He looks exhausted. "Kettu," he started. Kettu is the nickname he gave me when I was small. "I know you're not fond of this life we lead, neither am I, but we've got to stay in line, for your mother. I know you don't see how much your mother and I have sacrificed to maintain this lifestyle, to have something to pass on to you, and your kids-"

"Papa, we've been over this a hundred times." I interrupted. "I don't want kids, and I don't care about this lifestyle. I want to be happy. I want to be myself."

"I know that, kettu, but we need an heir. We need a reason to feel like all our sacrifices were worth it."

"Then why don't you go and have another baby, or better yet, take one from the workhouse! I'm sure they'll care about lifestyle much more than I ever would!"

"Astrid." He said, much firmer now. "We are much too old for another child of any sort, not to mention that a child from the workhouse would not have Harlow blood." Disgust crossed his face as he processed all that a workhouse child would entail, especially concerning what my mother's reaction would be.

I stood up and gave him a look of desperation. It was met with a look of exhaustion. I left the room without another word. It was futile to argue with him, he's so programmed by my mother. The only difference between them is that he has compassion for me, where she has none.

I needed a release, so I headed to my room, my sanctuary. It's not so much a room as an attic, but it's all mine, so I couldn't care less what form it took. 

I picked up the first book I found and opened it to a blank page. As soon as my quill hit the paper, I was writing as fast as my hand would allow. Writing about running wild and free with the foxes, even my secret wish to become one of them, to be in their pack. To have no cares except the pack and hunting. No expectations, no conditions. To simply love and be loved unconditionally.

Once I'd written as much as I possibly could, I went to sit by the window. I am much calmer after writing, but still distressed about what the future may hold. It was starting to get dark and the moon was peeking out from behind the tree line. She was almost full, most likely to reach her peak on Samhain. I often look to her when I need guidance, today was no different. I plead with her to guide me to the right path, to show me what's meant to happen. I never get the answers I seek, but I do gain a sense of comfort and security from confiding in her. 

Today is different. Initially, I received the comfort and security that is typical of these interactions. After a few minutes, there was something more. There was an overwhelming sense that everything was going to work out okay. It was more than that though, it felt just how I've always imagined unconditional love felt.

However, I still had more energy to burn. I needed to be with my foxes. I needed to run, dance, and just be free. I slipped out my window, climbing down the trellis, careful not to crush any of my mothers black eyed susans.