Beneath The Fleece

Reflection

His words cut deeply, seeming to pierce into my very soul. Anger and embarrassment pour through me. My body vibrating with the overwhelming feelings.

"I am VERY aware!" My voice rises with each word. "So sorry to disappoint you."

"That is not what I mean, little mouse." He sighs, running a hand down his thick beard.

"Oh no, I understand!" I chuckle, the sound hollow and without amusement. "Unfortunately father this is how I was born. If this charade is too inconvenient for you, maybe you should have raised me as a woman!"

"No child of mine, will be spat upon and sold like god damn cattle!" He rounds on me, slamming his fist onto the table, causing it to groan in protest.

"Then I'm not sure what you expect of me!" I shout, squaring off with him.

"I expect you not to bask in the pinin' of a young lass!" He practically snarles. "Nothin' good can ever come of it!"

"So what am I to do then?" I snap springing forward. "Speak to no one? Make no friends? Have no life of any sort? Grow old, pretending to be something I am not? Because that seems just as fucking shitty as being a woman!"

"Watch your tongue!" He hisses. "You have NO idea what could of awaited you, had you been givin' over for the Passage!"

"I may not endure suffering at another's hands father, but I am suffering now none the less!" I feel hot tears welling in my eyes and my face began to heat.

His hard gaze softens as he took in my shaking form. His hand lifts as if to reach for me but instead he pulls it back.

"I am sorry little mouse." He huffs out a breath, scratching at the scruff on his chin. "I know this isn't easy."

"That's an understatement." I mumble rubbing my palms into my face.

"I cannot bare to see you in harm's way." He frowns. "What you are doing, it is playing with fire. That girl will not except you as you truly are."

The meaning of his words tear at my heart. Thinking of Trinity's adorably scrunched face sending a fresh wave of pain rippling through me. I wasn't sure what my feelings were for the girl, but the thought of losing her caused an ache to fill my chest. I wanted to argue, to tell my father he was wrong. Yet deep down I knew there was no way she would or even ever could love the real me.

Time seemed to tick by as we stood silently, neither one of us uttering another word. My head had begun to ache and my heart felt heavy in my chest. Thankfully the bells out front chimed and I excused myself, grateful for the interruption. We went our separate ways, not bothering a glace at the other. That evening I skipped supper, hiding away in my room. My entire being felt drained, body, mind and soul. I replayed the days events over and over causing my stomach to churn. Food had been the furthest thing from what I wanted.

When the last rays of light trickled in through my window there was a soft knock at my door. I sat up on my hard single bed, a loud groan protesting from the metal frame.

"Come in." I say loud enough to be heard through the surface.

The paint chipped door creaked open slowly, a head of black hair popping out from behind it.

"Hey." Bash says softly, as the rest of his large form slid into view.

"Hey." I muster up a semblance of a smile.

He held a bowl in one hand and a biscuit in the other. A mischievous grin graced his full lips as he came to sit beside me.

"You really did a number on the old man." His warm honey eyes gleam. "He's been walking around grumbling under his breath the entire day. He even threw a cup at me, well after I had asked what his problem was." He gives a playful wink.