[Witches' Horses] Winter
Title: no, please--
'Verse/characters: Morozko; [nameless]
Prompt: 82C "determination"
Word Count: 378
Notes: follows riches.
She doesn't realise that they haven't moved until the third day, when there's a sudden chill in her heart, because she's not been asked to help pack things for travel, and her sister keeps her at needlework far longer than she otherwise might.
It's not until she's released, and finds the last family just shrugging into their winter coats to leave that she knows.
"Father, please, no," she whispers when he comes to her, kisses her forehead like she's been dead again, or will be soon. "No--"
"It won't be you," her step-mother says, and somehow that is worse, because the woman is smiling, greed lit deep in her eyes.
"No," she says, "it shouldn't be anyone, can't you see that we can't--"
"Shhh," her step-mother says, not her father, who is looking at her broken, because it was him, who took his daughter out, and who got her back alive, no-one else. He will not be leader much longer, she suddenly knows, and wonders what game her step-mother is playing. What power she thinks she's holding.
It's not until her step-mother is bundling her sister into pretty embroidered winter clothes and her sister is upset, crying, because she wasn't called to council, either that she knows what game her step-mother is playing.
"No!" she shouts, and her step-mother gives her a quelling stare.
"Send me again, if you must send anyone," she says, but her step-mother's face is closed, as her sister is locked into the sledge, still weeping.
Her step-mother comes close, whispers in her ear, "If you can bring back riches, my daughter will bring back the sun. Every man but your father wished to stay, for someone to try. Be quiet, and obey the will of your tribe."
She cannot--she breaks free, calls against the wall of the sledge "Be polite! Speak when spoken to--" but her sister is crying too loudly to hear.
Her father comes in, then, tugged by his wife, and something in him died with her, she thinks.
"I am sorry," they whisper to one another, then he goes to obey the will of the tribe, and she goes to trim hide for a child's coat, because sitting silent waiting makes her think of her poor sister.
'Verse/characters: Morozko; [nameless]
Prompt: 82C "determination"
Word Count: 378
Notes: follows riches.
She doesn't realise that they haven't moved until the third day, when there's a sudden chill in her heart, because she's not been asked to help pack things for travel, and her sister keeps her at needlework far longer than she otherwise might.
It's not until she's released, and finds the last family just shrugging into their winter coats to leave that she knows.
"Father, please, no," she whispers when he comes to her, kisses her forehead like she's been dead again, or will be soon. "No--"
"It won't be you," her step-mother says, and somehow that is worse, because the woman is smiling, greed lit deep in her eyes.
"No," she says, "it shouldn't be anyone, can't you see that we can't--"
"Shhh," her step-mother says, not her father, who is looking at her broken, because it was him, who took his daughter out, and who got her back alive, no-one else. He will not be leader much longer, she suddenly knows, and wonders what game her step-mother is playing. What power she thinks she's holding.
It's not until her step-mother is bundling her sister into pretty embroidered winter clothes and her sister is upset, crying, because she wasn't called to council, either that she knows what game her step-mother is playing.
"No!" she shouts, and her step-mother gives her a quelling stare.
"Send me again, if you must send anyone," she says, but her step-mother's face is closed, as her sister is locked into the sledge, still weeping.
Her step-mother comes close, whispers in her ear, "If you can bring back riches, my daughter will bring back the sun. Every man but your father wished to stay, for someone to try. Be quiet, and obey the will of your tribe."
She cannot--she breaks free, calls against the wall of the sledge "Be polite! Speak when spoken to--" but her sister is crying too loudly to hear.
Her father comes in, then, tugged by his wife, and something in him died with her, she thinks.
"I am sorry," they whisper to one another, then he goes to obey the will of the tribe, and she goes to trim hide for a child's coat, because sitting silent waiting makes her think of her poor sister.