Thank You

My friend, Aysha, challenged me to write a short story involving three things I never include in my writing: love, class, and a female main character. So, I dedicate this to her!

            Gretel may have only been seventeen years of age and a part of the Wol servant class, who could never speak of their emotions in the presence of other, superior citizens, but her heart spoke louder than her voice ever could the emotion she felt: she loved Turn Vlax.
            She had met the general at a banquet -though “met” is an extremely liberal term- she brought out the banquet feast, twelve courses, consecutively, and the only communication between the two had been General Turn Vlax’s thanksgivings and Gretel’s curtsy in return. Though the interaction was not much, and perhaps only polite manners, it was enough for the servant girl to fall deeply in love.
            At first her attraction to the general was predominantly physical. Turn Vlax’s severed left forearm, a sign of the Armor Class, the class second only to royalty in this sector of the galaxy, had been fitted with a golden weapon brace, screaming prestige and notoriety to all who gazed upon it. This was the igniter for Gretel’s affection: her admiration for a more dignified class member. And then there was the general’s skin, rough and marked with battle scars emitting the courageous deeds of his past. More than that, however, Turn Vlax wore his original Maxitor-blue skin untainted, without concealing cosmetics. Where many covered up their plant’s disgruntled criminal history by lightening or dying their flesh, the general proudly wore his teal hide, challenging with a glance of his pewter eyes any who dared judge him based on the actions of his ancestors.
            Gretel saw this in the man the very instant she laid eyes on him. She knew such a creature to be stoic in the face of adversity, both civilized and brutal. And, even though he walked with the knowledge of death and the marks of war, the general was no machine of destruction, he was very human. The girl saw kindness and gentleness in his eyes and she had heard it in his voice when she had served him at the banquet.
            It had been a raucous celebration commemorating a recent territorial victory by the Royal Galactic Navy and libations had flowed like water from falls. While many of the celebrators most of who fell in the Armor Class- were loud and drunk, Gretel noticed, the general remained silent and sober. The servant girl saw the heaviness of the battle in his eyes and wanted nothing more but to take him into her arms �"and, possibly, her bed- and comfort and nurture him in ways only a woman could. Gretel, however, knew the taboo of a Wol servant fraternizing with a superior class and, though it pained her to see this beautiful and sensitive man suffer alone, she could not break society’s laws and simply served the general his first dish of the victory banquet.
            And all might have been different had General Vlax not spoken. Gretel might have passed her attraction to him as an adolescent’s silly crush. However, as she sat down the bowl of leak stew and the loaf of bread, Turn Vlax raised his solemn head. His eyes locked with her golden ones and she saw a shimmer of tears in them as he spoke softly:
            “Thank you.”
And into those two words Gretel melted. She swam in their honest gratitude, which never came with them from others and, in them, fell deeply and inescapably in love with the general.
            She opened her mouth to speak �"what, she did not know- but caught herself before breaking yet another taboo: that of a Wol speaking when not asked a direct question. Turning her eyes down so General Turn Vlax would not see the tears of raw love and emotion in them, Gretel instead bent in silent curtsy, laid the other banquet guests’ food in front of them, and returned to the kitchen. Here she sat on her stool and sobbed into her apron. Her tears fell heavy with affection. For the general, with the longing to touch him and, even, speak to him, and even heavier with the realization that the love she felt would never be reality.
            The rest of the banquet Gretel found herself in an ever more seductive dance of love with the general as her partner. Every time she brought another food course from the kitchen Turn Vlax looked her in the eyes and spoke the same two words. And as the banquet progressed so did the passion in his eyes and, more subtly, his voice, as did the servant girl’s love for this man. The passion and love grew steadily until finally, as Gretel served the sweet coffee to the few conscious soldiers left, the general’s eyes and voice burned into her soul deeply and her legs felt weak under the weight of her adoring heart.
            After the banquet, with the other Wol servant girls, Gretel washed the hundreds of dishes and kept picturing General Turn Vlax’s eyes. As she pictured the man she felt her core �"her soul- soar. She imagined her in his arms, her lips touching his unashamedly blue skin, feeling the scar from past battles and transmitting her love into him.
            Throughout the tedious hours of washing dishes, any time the door opened to the kitchen, Gretel turned in excitement, only to be disappointed when it was another servant girl. Though her heart kept expecting Turn Vlax to come striding through the door and whisking her away to a life of passion, she knew societys laws would never allow a highly honored Armor Class general be with a lowly, dirty Wol Class servant.
            As she scrubbed the pots and pans and plates and forks, Gretel saw her life before her eyes. She would forever be serving those higher above her in society, always looking for Turn Vlax in the crowd. She would always go to the spaceport at the edge of the city whenever the Royal Galactic Navy soldiers went off and secretly say a prayer of protection for the general. She would eternally come back when the soldiers did after bloody battles to see whether or not his worn blue flesh and passionate pewter eyes were amongst them.
            She would not do this because it was what she wanted. She would do this because of the burning, tangible ball in her heart: Love. It would stay in her for all time and would be her mistress until the end of time. Some days it would loosen its grip and allow her the freedom to enjoy the tedium of her Wol servant life. But, inevitably, it would come back to her with the image of General Turn Vlax: his rough, unapologetic skin, his strong, yet sad pewter eyes, and his voice as he spoke, forever, the words:
            “Thank you.”