Oscar and Thea ~Shortys2024~

Oscar and Thea

A flash of lightning cut the picnic short and was followed swiftly by the thunder of hooves as the horses galloped back to the estate before mother and son had a chance to stand.

"Quick!" The mother jumped up and began throwing picnic food into the basket, the small boy beside her helping as fast as he could.

"The blanket will not fit!" he cried as the heavens opened, launching an assault of unusually large raindrops.

"Leave it! We can take cover in the old farmhouse with the Mathers'!" The mother yelled over the screaming wind and grabbed her son's hand, pulling him across the moors, "Maybe you will even make a friend while we are there."

The boy was rather disturbed by this idea, "But you are my friend." he shouted back, to which his mother squeezed his hand in response.

She glanced over her son, awkwardly bearing the large picnic blanket in his small arms, those gentle blue eyes of his searching for the safest route across the muddy terrain.

Her heart tinged with pain; and she wondered whether soon it would become painful to look upon his handsome face that reminded her more of his father with every passing day.

For now, she smiled down on her sweet child and leant to whisper conspiratorially in his ear, "You will always be my best friend, Oscar."

~

Finally, they reached the farmhouse where the old oak door gusted open before they could raise their fists to knock. The mother quickly pushed her son through the door which promptly slammed behind them, leaving the pair dripping on the stone tiles.

The boy took note of the open house, quickly assessing that in its entirety, it was still much smaller than his bedroom. Chaos in the farmhouse abruptly halted and all eyes turned to the sheepish intruders.

A farming couple at the centre of the madness, instantly bowed to their Lady and the young Earl who clutched at her hand and hid slightly behind her skirts, "My Lord, Lady Craven." They greeted the visitors, shock evident on their faces.

"Please, be at ease," The Lady spoke with an easy smile, "Oscar and I have been so unfortunate as to get caught up in this dreadful rain, if you could offer us shelter, we have plenty of food to share." She held up the picnic basket and instantly the spell of silence was broken; children skurried from all corners of the house ready to dig through it.

The woman, with dark hair and calloused hands, abandoned the bread she had been kneading and raised her voice over the squabbling children, "Well then come in! You must be freezing, Hugo, go fetch some blankets for these poor souls." A young boy emerged from the rabble and rushed up a ladder into a cosy loft as the visitors were ushered towards the overly large farmers' table that was pushed, for their benefit, toward the crackling fire.

Immediately, Oscar was intercepted by a horde of children who swarmed the boy like a pack of rabid animals, pulling at his fine clothes and tugging on his dark hair. Pausing only to inquisitively sniff the soft strands that were fragranced with pine from his mother's handmade soap.

Such was the intensity of their attack that he had no real success at detaching the rabble from him. He searched for help from his mother, but she had long since abandoned him for the company of the farming couple.

Abruptly, the front door burst open, and the blistering storm blew through the tiny cottage once more. Bringing with it not only rain and debris but a dancing young girl into the room.

She looked to be about his age and was coated in mud, from the soles of her bare feet to the dress that was far too small for her to the tanned skin which was painted with artistic smears of dirt, her long and tangled hair windswept and thick with flowers and twigs.