𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐀𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒖𝒆

 Up until just recently, you considered yourself to be a plain and somewhat accomplished young woman. You had all the comforts that girls your age envied: a fine education, a doting mother, and a loving father. You were content with remaining just where you were for as long as you possibly could.

 But of course, that was before mother became ill with a bout of scarlet fever and died only two short months later. You had barely enough time to recover from the loss when war began to stir, dividing your country between North and South. Your father didn't want to leave you alone, especially after losing his wife and the mother of his only child, but very few people got away with avoiding the draft. He was not one of them.

 With him gone off to fight, there was no one left to help you watch the estate. That was when it was decided that you would be put up with your estranged aunt and her daughters for the remainder of the war. Or at least until father returned home to care for you himself.

 Your name is (Y/N) Eleanor March. Despite attending the finest girl's school in the state, you had very little in the way of friends. The other girls looked down upon you and your family for barely having enough money to pay tuition so it was no wonder you didn't feel comfortable going to them about your recent troubles.

 That was one of the reasons you didn't protest moving across the country to stay with your distant family. There would be no one left behind to miss you.

 Before the war, you spent most of your time studying poetry and the arts. You were very fond of dancing but your dance lessons were an expendable privilege that eventually had to be cut. You considered yourself to be as finely cultured as any other young woman your age, perhaps even more so.

 You'd begun studying the French language at the beginning of the year and Father was considering taking you to Paris before he got the letter in the mail ordering him to report directly to the local Union Army headquarters. After he was sent away, you decided to use your free-time by volunteering to sew socks and blankets for the army men. You also attended a good number of public speakings in the park.

 Your detest for the Confederacy grew more and more bitter every day that father wasn't by your side. Because of their idiocy, he and many other fathers, brothers, and husbands, had to abandon their families to join in the violence. It infuriated you to no end.

 The wheels of the carriage justled roughly and you lifted your head off of the frosted window. The ride from Detroit all the way to Concord took roughly half the day and since you began your journey at just around sunrise, it was now five o'clock in the afternoon. The world outside was ladden with freshly fallen snow. It was a beautiful Christmas Eve day.

 The aunt you were staying with was one of your father's sisters. Besides that, all you knew was that her family led a life not as comfortable as what you were used to. Her name escaped you, though you knew she had a few daughters that were roughly your age.

 They wrote to you only once before your departure, telling you how excited they were for your arrival. Little did they know that you were just as anxious if not more. Every passing moment, you stared blankly at the scenery beyond your little square window and wondered to yourself. Would your cousins be as kind in person as they sounded on paper? Would they see you as more of a burden than a friend? 

Only time would tell, it seemed.

It was actually your eldest relative, Aunt March, who was the first to offer you housing. She was a cruel old woman who came to visit you and your family every year for Christmas and occasionally she spent a few weeks in the summer at your estate as well. You knew she was harmless, but she scared you nonetheless. Thankfully, you didn't have to turn her down because your other aunt, father's youngest sister, insisted.

As the carriage bounced down the snowy dirt path that led directly to the March house, you reached up and ran your fingers through the gold chain supporting your necklace. It was a locket that your mother had given you before she died. It had a portait of both her and father inside. You missed both of them dearly, but the thumb-sized pictures would have to be enough to get you through the war.

You knew that tomorrow, Christmas Day, wouldn't be the same without either of them but you were determined to make it enjoyable regardless.

Suddenly, the carriage beneath you jolted to a stop and you pressed your hand against the plush velvet seat to prevent from falling forward. You pulled back the lace curtain to take a look at your new surroundings and saw a quaint country house just a few yards away. It was darkly colored and looked to be somewhat old.

If you squinted your eyes, you could see a jumble of figures piled together in the first-floor window. Four little women smiling up at you. You knew right away that these were your cousins.

As the coachman hopped down from his seat and walked around to unlatch the door, you flattened out your skirts and cleared your dress of any dust that might have accumulated during the journey. With a final deep breath, you tucked your locket away and patted the soft outline of the oval shape resting against your chest.

"Happy thoughts," you whispered breathily to yourself before letting a smile take over your features. The door clicked open and you wasted no further time before exiting the stuffy carriage. 

 (A/N: I'm between hyper-fixations right now so bear with me while I figure out which book I'm going to prioritize. I've figured out the outline of this whole story and I'm so excited to share it with you guys! Might change the cover later. Let me know if you see any mistakes and I will fix them as soon as I can).