Waiting for Poppy (Prompt 4)

Written for a contest! Prompt 4: He couldn't watch her leave.

She didn’t mean to get distracted.

“Hurry, go down to the marketplace and fetch everything on this list!” the cook had screeched at her an hour prior, shoving a wicker basket along with the grocery list and a small bag of coins at her. “And be quick about it, or the Master will have my head!”

The young woman sighed as she methodically turned over the bright fruit she had picked up. To think that she had gone from working at her late father’s forge to running around as the palace cook’s errand girl. Bless you, dear father. You are in a better place now.

She gave the vendor a quick smile as she deposited the appropriate amount of coin into his hand. From what she could make out from the barely legible list, she had gotten almost everything the cook had requested. There was just that last word there that she couldn’t quite make out. Growing up as a forger’s daughter, she had little reason to learn to read the written word, but her father had insisted that she know at least the basics. “You never know when you may need it, little one,” her father would say, his dark mustache lifting with his smile. “You may one day find yourself in a situation where you need not ears to hear, but eyes to see what is being said.”

She never would have thought that meant reading words off an errand list.

Regardless, she had stayed out longer than the short-tempered cook had patience for, but she knew she would get the stick if she did not retrieve every item on that list. She would just have to ask someone to read it for her.

She surveyed the many stalls surrounding her, searching for a vendor who might be able to help her. A reflective glint caught in her peripherals and she found herself gravitating towards a metalwork stand. The familiar smell of leather, the heat of fire, and the repeated clinking of a hammer on metal drove the worry over her errands from her mind. She ran a hand over the closest piece laid out: a tool typically used for gardening, simple form " apart from the subtle but distinctive grooves and edges that spoke volumes of its versatility.

“Can I help you with anything?”

She looked up just as a young man strode over from beneath the awning of the connected forge, wiping his hands on a ratty cloth. The first thing she noticed about him the dark soot decorating the tip of his long, straight nose.

“Did you make this?” she inquired.

He glanced down at the tool and reached towards it, his calloused hand brushing against hers where it rested on the piece. She watched as he lightly ran his fingers along the grooves etched into the metal and for a brief moment, she saw a gentle expression flash across his face.

“Yes. This is my work,” he finally said, lifting his dark brown eyes to match her gaze evenly. “Are you looking for gardening tools?”

She couldn’t help the small scoff that escaped her. “Mere gardening tools do nothing for me as a cook’s errand girl,” she said in a voice edged with bitterness. “But this is not a simple gardening tool, is it? This is a well-made item: extra grooves for grip, a subtle hilt for protection, sharpened edges for attack. I could use something like this if I ever find myself in need of an unconventional short sword, no?”

The vendor took a step back and crossed his arms across his chest, impressed. “You have a good eye. Are you sure you are just a cook’s errand girl?”

She paused for a beat before placing her hand back onto the handle of her wicker basket. She thought of his gentle expression from earlier and the brief touch of his work-hardened hands. “That depends on if you would like to think any more of me,” she said with a smile. “Alas, I must return to my errands. I wonder, though, if you would indulge me just a moment more.”

She plucked the list from the basket and unfolded it for him, pointing towards the last scrawl. “Could you read this last word for me? I was able to make out most of the cook’s list, but this last one"”

“Poppy.” She looked up at him and realized how close they stood to each other, even with a stand between them. He leaned back over to his side of the stall as she did the same.

“Thank you,” she said, tightening her shawl around her shoulders. “I shall go finish my errands and return, then. Perhaps I will see you again.”

His eyes lingered on her, curiosity flitting within. He sent her a smile, like a secret. “Only if you would like to seek me out.”

“Then I will see you again. I cannot have you thinking less of me.” He let out a rich chuckle behind her and she hid her grin as she left to complete her list of errands with the full intention of seeking him out again.

 

* * * * * * *

 

Many times she returned to the young metalworker’s stall.

The two had conversations about his trade, her role in the palace, and their odd, but somehow natural friendship. As time went on, the man found himself often searching for her figure, listening for her voice, and each time she sought him out, he felt as though his heart grew with each meeting. One day she told him of her past, her mother’s absence and her father’s death, and he told her of his own life of abandonment. Her past laid bare, his mysterious patron was mysterious no more, and yet, he still found himself intrigued by her.

Then one day, he kissed her.

She had joined him in his workspace to share some of her own experiences in the forge. That day, she had tied her long black hair back with a scarf and rolled up her sleeves. Soot covered her smooth, caramel skin and sweat beaded on her forehead as she worked. At some point, he had wiped soot onto his cheek with a swipe of his hand and she had laughed, looking more beautiful than he had ever seen her. He leaned in then, caught up in the feel of his swelling heart, and stole her breath with his lips. She looked as surprised as he felt when he pulled away quickly, him already readying an apology for his brash action. His voice died when he saw her skin flush the color of poppy and her eyes flit coyly downwards before lifting back to his with unspoken desire. Then, she kissed him, and from then on, he was hers and she was his.

Each day after that, he would wait for her and each day, she would come to him. And each night, they would steal away and profess their love for each other with words, spoken and unspoken.

But for every moment of happiness they shared, there lay in wait a day when their bliss would be countered with just as much sorrow.

She was young. She was beautiful. Even covered in ash and smelling of sweat, she caught the eye of one of the palace’s resident lords. She then was no longer the cook’s errand girl, but a lord’s maid. At first, it meant better pay and accommodations. Later, it meant that the lovers’ time spent together would have to be shorter and secretive. They would still meet when they could, this time with him coming to her, but the jealous lord’s eyes and ears were diligent and widespread. He knew what he needed to do to make her his.

One night, the palace lord summoned her to his bedchambers. As always, she checked to make sure all the catches on her clothes were bound tightly and that she wore a neutral, but respectful expression. She entered quietly and curtsied. “Yes, my lord?”

“Come closer, girl,” he called from his bed, his nasally voice echoing through the room. She stepped hesitantly to where the candlelight flickered by his bed, her heart pounding with anticipation.

He looked her over, scowling briefly at her conservative wear, but quickly recovered and slowly stood up from the bed. He stepped towards her and reached a hand out to run it down her arm.

“I have a proposal,” he started, his eyes wandering somewhere around her chest. “How would you like to discard your days of toil and live in the lap of luxury?” He lifted his black eyes to hers and smirked. “Namely, my lap?”

She flinched away, ever so slightly, and averted his gaze. “My lord, I-I don’t know what to say,” she stuttered. “I couldn’t possibly . . ."

He frowned then and took a step back. “Is it because of the forge boy?” Her sudden intake of breath was all the evidence he needed. He laughed derisively and waved a hand towards the small foyer that connected to his bedchambers. “I thought so. I’ll have you know, though, that your boy has sadly had an accident. He was working in his forge, just a little too close to the fire, and whoops! Burns everywhere, taking his youth and his eyesight. And what use is a craftsman if he cannot see his own work?”

She finally looked towards where the lord gestured towards the foyer. A figure sat in the shadows there, bound, a cowl covering his head. She could hear periodic whimpers of pain and wheezes of breath.

“You can save him by becoming mine,” the nobleman said, folding his hands behind his back. “Think about it, girl.”

Those words dissipated with her footsteps as she stepped gingerly towards the figure. Her hands trembled as she crouched and removed the cowl, tears instantly springing to her eyes as she saw the mangled face of her lover.

“Is . . . is that you, love?” he gasped, the skin rippling where his eyes had been swelled shut.

She reached a hand towards him, tears sliding down her cheeks. “It is. It’s me. I’m here. Oh, love . . .”

He lifted his hands and pulled her in towards him as best he could, cradling her head to his neck. “Please. Tell me you won’t go with him,” he whispered. “Please.”

She stilled and glanced back at the lord. She didn’t have to ask to know that her lover’s accident was no accident at all. “He means to torture you if I don’t,” she concluded, anger spiking through her. “Maybe he’ll let you alone if I go with him . . .”

He clutched at her tighter, desperate. “No. I can’t let you do that to yourself. You need to run. You need to get away from here. Please.”

She shut her eyes and tried her best to slow her racing heart. “If I go with him . . . I can get help. I can get help for you.” She pulled away and cupped his face, gingerly tracing her fingertips over the unscarred flesh of his face. “Just as you saw me, I can see for you. Just as you always searched for me, I can search for you. I can be your eyes. I can get you help. But I have to go with him.”

“The rest of your life will be miserable. I can’t let you go. I can’t let you do that for my sake.”

“I know. But knowing that you’ll be safe, I can continue. I love you,” she whispered. She pressed a kiss against his lips and he felt the wetness of her cheek, even against the blistered rawness of his skin. “You will see me again.”

He felt her brush her hand against his cheek and heard her murmur one last goodbye. He tried to catch her hand before it fell from his face, but darn his eyes, darn his weakness, he couldn’t see, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t watch her leave.

His heart ached as he heard the sound of her footsteps fade away. He slammed a fist weakly against the ground beside him, his knuckles buzzing with the impact. He couldn’t do anything but wait for her to return, just like before.  Except this time, she would be bound to another man.

He lifted a shaking hand to his lips. He imagined the poppy on her cheeks and the glint in her eyes after he first kissed her. After she first told him she loved him.

No.

She had his heart just as he had hers. He repeated in his mind over and over again the words and images of the conversations they had, the secret liaisons they shared, the kisses they planted on each others’ lips and each others’ hearts. He could believe in her love for him.

He couldn’t watch her leave, but he could wait for her return. As he had always done, he could wait.

He would wait.

Author's Note

The contest called for 1,500 words, but I went over and did 2,000+ oops. Let me know how y'all think it is in terms of flow, tense/grammar consistency, etc.! And please leave a comment/review so I can improve :D

Reviews

[TheMalady]

Your story is just great as always! I love the plot and the setting! Is this just a story? Not a book? I would really like the second part because I want to know what will happen. Also, regarding this line:

'She shut her eyes and tried to her best to slow her racing heart.' Shouldn't this be 'She shut her eyes and tried her best to slow her racing heart.'?

Anyway, all I can say is that I must read all your works so I could learn from you. You're a great writer and an honest, awesome reviewer! :)

Thanks for sharing this story and talent! :)

[kristollini]

Thank you so much!! I have sort of an ending for it, but I would need to hash it out more to see if it's something I want to continue with :O I'll let you know if I decide to continue it!

Oh, yes!! Good eye! I will change that. Thanks!

Oh my thank you so much >_< I still have a long ways to go, but I'm glad you enjoy what humble pieces I have shared so far :3

[TheMalady]

Oh, you are so welcome! I love your writings, they are so smooth and I could go on reading 'till night if not for the sun setting on the west. haha, Hoping for a book! >_

[CobaltCraftR27]

I really liked this. You did a very nice job. With more detail and plot points this could easily be a great book.

[kristollini]

I have somewhat of an ending for it, but you're right, I would need to tighten up the details and flesh out plot points if I wanted to continue it.

But thank you so much for reading and reviewing! I appreciate the feedback :)