Red,Black,White

Ruby. Ruby Red.

Once upon a time, in a kingdom whose name has been lost to the wind and the sand, there lived a girl. Her name was Ruby. Ruby Red.

 Known to her family and friends as Red, she lived a fairly happy life. She and her family lived in a small cottage far outside of the castle district, surrounded by acres of dense forest. Her father was a loud, jolly man with a dark brown beard and broad shoulders. He made money by chopping and selling wood, and would come home late at night, tired but always with a smile on his face, and would sing his children to sleep. His wife was a petite, quiet woman whose face would light up with joy for her family. She kept her auburn hair modestly bound, but all who saw her praised her beauty. She was the daughter of a nobleman, who many sought after, but she had given her heart to the humble woodcutter, and would take no other. She sewed and darned clothes, and was widely renowned as the best seamstress in the forest. Ruby and her siblings were a wild bunch, always running amok in the forest, with their mother shouting anxiously after them, and their father chuckling and saying, “They’ll be fine.” And they were fine, until Ruby’s youngest brother, Jonathon, got the fever. He recovered, but Ruby’s parents were gone- the fever that had not taken the children had taken the parents instead. Ruby and her siblings were left in the care of her father’s brother- a greedy, sly man who preferred his own company to any other. After Ruby’s mother’s chest rose and fell for the last time, her uncle stripped the cottage bare, selling it to pay for his alcohol consumption. More often than not, he could be found in the cheapest tavern that could be found in the small town half a day’s walk away, drinking his life away. He came home to the cottage occasionally, though only to gather up Ruby’s mother’s old jewelry and gowns to sell at market the next day. He gave none of the money to Ruby or her siblings, leaving them to fend for themselves.

After Ruby’s parents died, Ruby, only eleven, became mother and father to all. Her four younger siblings, ages two, five, seven, and eight, depended on her for their survival. She took over her mother’s sewing, at first funded by pity, but, as her fingers grew skilled and her eye grew sharp, she was regarded as quite the seamstress. She scavenged in the forest, finding seeds of tomatoes and squash and planting them in the hope of growing something to eat. Her first harvest was only a feast for the birds, but her next provided food for the winter. Whenever she could not possibly scrounge up work, and the crops were still sleeping underground, she went and begged, her beseeching eyes turned upward and her little hand stretched out. Though her heart had broken over her parent’s death, in it still remained an overflow of kindness. Once, while scavenging in the forest, she found a little bird with a broken wing, and brought it home. She nursed it back to health, and it became her pet, and gave it as much love as her innocent heart could give. It gave her a small comfort, until her uncle, in one of his drunken rages, snapped the poor thing’s neck. She cried bitter tears over its grave, but resolved not to let it show. She knew then never to trust her uncle, for fear that he might, in turn, snap her neck. She hid her earnings underneath her mattress, for fear of her uncle returning and taking it. As the years passed, he came home less and less, until it seemed that he had vanished. Ruby didn’t concern herself overmuch about it, for her mind was filled with thoughts of survival.

By the time she was eighteen, Ruby had grown into a fine young woman, who possessed that singular ability of brightening someone’s day from so little as a smile. Her brothers said, laughingly, that her grotesqueness was unrivaled, but many claimed that they had never seen one so beautiful. Ruby always laughed and brushed off praise and insults alike, but it was undeniable. Her auburn hair, always in a modest braid like her mother, reached down to the small of her back, hanging in rippling waves if unfastened. Her eyes were a bright, clear green, framed by dark eyelashes. Her height was that of her father’s, but her slimness clearly was inherited from her mother. Her mouth was always in the shape of a laugh or smile, and her graceful hands- dancers hands, her mother always said- were always moving. Her face was angular, with dramatic cheekbones and a sharp chin, but she always seemed so alive and full of emotion. Half of the boys in the village were in love with her- the other half had been dissuaded by their sweethearts, or by Ruby herself. She always said that she was too busy for a sweetheart that her time was taken up by her family or work. She would laugh and shake her head at those foolish, lovestruck boys, and tell them to go home, that she had work to do.

When she got home, she would pick up her sewing, or go tend to the garden. She had designated the duties of cook to Daisy, after it was decided by the entire family, in no uncertain terms, that Ruby could not cook. Daisy, fourteen, was a sweet girl who seemed to posses a natural talent for cooking. It was a good thing, too, because her family was always ready to eat. Will, the second oldest at fifteen, would doubtless be over at Tessa’s house, serenading her with his wobbly voice, or perhaps throwing rocks at her window in an attempt to gain her attention. When she would either ignore him or yell at him to go away- or her father would threaten him-, he would return home with his catch, his lanky body ready for food. Jonathon, the baby of the house, and Lily, twelve, would be in their respective haunts- Jonathon would be playing in the forest, and Lily would be sewing, with occasional yelps issued when a needle pricked her finger. When the sun sank behind the castle in the distance, they would all assemble in the kitchen to dine on whatever Will had caught that day, This was the routine, until a day quite unlike all the others. It was the first day in six years that Ruby had seen her uncle. It was after her siblings had gone to bed, tired by the day and resting for the next, her only time to herself. She had gone outside to gaze at the stars, dotting the night sky, which looked for all the world like a great velvet blanket wrapped around the sleeping earth. She had heard a horse, and had looked into the darkness for a shape. It was then she saw him. He was older, and greyer, but it was undoubtedly her uncle, down to the glint in his eye. He was riding a horse, and when he dismounted he opened his arms, walking towards her. She scrambled backwards, and he mockingly laughed. “What’s the matter, dear?” He asked, words dripping with disdain. “Afraid to give your old uncle a hug?” She rose to her feet, finally regaining her words. “ You left us,’ she said accusingly, making each syllable bite. “You never helped us, not once. You stole from my dead parents, and didn’t once feel guilt. You are not my family, and you never will be.” He clutched at his heart, laughing at Ruby. “Oh, but my dear Ruby,” he said, voice filled with contempt. “I have found you a husband!” She stared at him in confusion, not understanding. “A… husband? I don’t understand…” he laughed triumphantly, and walked closer to her. She backed up, feeling the wooden door behind her. He nodded, opening his eyes innocently. “Oh yes, the best of husbands. I’ve promised you to the king!” Ruby stared at him, sure that he had gone mad. He looked angrily at her, spitting at her feet. “You see, I was rather deeply in debt at a tavern, and had no way to pay it off. I was taken before the king, and he told me that unless I had a way to pay back the money, I would go to debtor’s prison. Now, of course I didn’t want that, so what did I do?” He leaned towards Ruby, the stink of sour beer on his breath. She recoiled in disgust, but he continued the story. “Well, my pretty,” he said, reaching out a hand to Ruby’s face, “I promised him you.” She slapped his hand away, looking at him in horror. “ You… you promised me to him?” Her voice rose with the shock of it, her uncle nodding emphatically. “Oh yes, my dear. I told him you were the most beautiful in his kingdom, and he believed me! Of course, I didn’t know, but I was right! You will do nicely.” He nodded satisfactorily, not seeming to notice the disgust on Ruby’s face. “ He will make me a rich man, you see. All I have to do is deliver you to him, and I will be rich for the rest of my days.” He chuckled, staring of into space. Ruby recovered from her shock, and pushed him away from her. “No,” she said simply. He looked at her disbelievingly. “No, I won’t marry the king. I am not leaving my family, and I would rather have you rot in debtor’s prison than become rich and even more worthless than you are now.” Her stared at her, than a terrible anger passed over his face; he savagely yanked her head forward, closer to him. His eyes were those of a madman. “You will marry the king,” he growled into her ear, “ Or I will hang them all.” He jerked her up, releasing his grip on her. She stared into his cold, dead eyes and knew that he possessed no heart. “Go tell your family that you are leaving. Don’t bring anything. Be quick, or I will drag you out and beat you bloody. GO,” he snarled viciously. Ruby bolted into the house, kissing them on the head or caressing them lovingly. She woke only Will, with the instructions to take care of them. He nodded, his eyes wide and scared. “I love you,” she whispered, then crept out of the house to join her uncle. They rode, in the dead of night, to the castle, where her husband awaited her. “ What will happen to them?” she finally asked, a burning need to know overpowering her disgust for the twisted creature she rode with. He was silent for a moment, then said, in a voice gentler than any he had used before, “I don’t know.”