The Whipping Tree

I: Charcoal and Cerulean

I
Charcoal and Cerulean

         Lady Ailemer sits alone at the dining table with her hands clasped together, eyes tracing over the assorted silverware before her.

         “I must remind the maids to purchase new plates,” she murmurs.

         Then she snaps, breaks cleanly in the middle. Her arm swoops in an almost graceful arc and sends everything on the table within reach flying.

         The plates crash against the floor and the walls and forks and knives bounce once, twice, before clattering to a stop.

         Eleanor covers her face and slides off her chair, body wracked with sobs.

         Her daughter. Her only child, standing before the tree as frail as a tendril of smoke.

         She hoped with all her heart Imorda would let her have just another year with her little girl, but her wisp of a daughter was blown away instead.

         Joan sits in the center of her bed. Her eyes and face are surprisingly void of tears.

         She looks at the closet in front of her, the same closet she has woken up to for almost all her life.

         She looks to her right at the balcony doors she has opened and closed a million times.

         Her parents left her alone when they returned home, something she is thankful for because she wants nothing but a stretch of silence so she can come to terms with what has happened. After a long embrace and hard kisses to her forehead, they retired to their own room.

         The fissures start from her head, tickle down her spine until she imagines she’s nothing but feet, roots, and that too soon becomes dust.

         She wonders whether it will hurt. Her death. Whether the Noci will tear her limb to limb and devour her alive.

         But then she remembers that she’s never heard anything beyond horror stories when it comes to the Noci, and horror stories cannot be counted upon for the truth.

         She amuses herself for a moment thinking about what they could possibly do with her.

         Maybe they’ll give me flowers.

         She snorts when she thinks of that and climbs out of bed and walks down the hall to the small library.

         Joan has many memories of Boone that don’t necessarily involve her. Vera caught her once, staring out the library window, page in mid-flip, at the farm boys as they sat under a tree.

         She found the scene before her much more amusing than the seventh king of Drachmere in her history book, and could recognize Boone as easily as she could a black sheep.

They sat in a circle before the large tree, all six of them, crunching on shrivelled crop and fruits too small or pest-ridden to serve to her family.

         One of the boys scooped up a handful of apples half the size of his fist and began juggling, opening his mouth and catching one every time it passed to his right. The rest of the boys smiled and made remarks at the display, roaring with laughter a minute later when the boy juggling hurled his last apple at Boone.

         He flinched, arm rising to cover himself, and the apple hit his arm, spraying juice onto his clothes and face. His movements were slow as he used his clean hand to wipe at his eyes.

         The juggling boy gave him a slap on the back and they rose. Boone trailed behind them, rubbing the stains on his cotton shirt.

         Joan could hear from a floor above when he was yelled at later for bringing a horde of flies into the kitchen.

         She sits in the same chair now, and looks out the same window.

         In the next hour, she treads around the house to every room, every corner. She traces imperfections in the walls, results of her mischief as a child.

         For the time being, she will avoid the kitchens and her parents’ bedroom; she knows she isn’t quite ready for that.

         Tomorrow she will be prepared as an offering and left at the Whipping Tree when the sun touches the horizon. This leaves her many hours alone with nothing but her thoughts and they already know where they want to take her. 

(**A/N: Aaaand this is the second half of the double update. Thank you so much to everyone who's been adding this story to their reading lists, commenting, and voting :D There'll be a bit more fluff and then the action starts >:) We'll finally get to Part II in three, four-ish chapters. Wheeee!

**Edit: Holy crap I am very sorry. When I first posted there were so many mistakes.)