Trying out some original work of my own this is unpolished, unedited a rough draft, butting just wanted to see what people thought. Also a shout out @mintycourage for being my sounding bored.
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On the out skirts of a small village, nestled amongst towering, rich green mountain firs and pines, sat a small cottage, with its charming white painted walls and wooden hand carved wooden blue shutters, smoke curling from the red bricked chimney, held a tiny family, two brothers and a tiny new-born.
One, a towering man with bronzed skin a fine nose, hair as red a flames that licked the fireplace, red rimmed, chocolate brown eyes stared at the fire, he was strong having built the cottage he now resided, his name was Johann Wald-Schreiner, right now however, he felt as a weak as the treasure nestled in arms, swaddled happy, warm and unknowing of what had happened around it, a hand crafted yellow blanket dotted with white mountain flowers, was his new-born son.
Johann blinking sluggishly, arms tightening when the soft weight shifted and soulful forest green eyes blinked up at him, small yawn on the little ones lips, when a gummy smile and coo snapped him out of the trace he’d been in, banishing the echoing screams, the slap and the slamming door, in an instant his world now lay in his arms.
‘Mein Kleiner Junge,’ Johann felt his voice cracking as he spoke, a soft coo his reward, worn finger brushing ruddy cheek, Alder, the rich green leaves and the deep brown colour of his sons hair, reminding Johann of the Alder trees he had carved his... their home from.
‘Bruder?’
Johann breaking the moment with his son, to look at doorway seeing his only just older brother Otto, the shorter man had the same pale skin tone as his new-born and the beginning of a beard.
‘Otto, what are you doing here?’ his question was quiet as not to disturb his son now content in his arms.
‘Mama and I met Tilda on our way here; she told us she was leaving.’ Otto’s voice was full of concern for him.
Johann staring at the little green eyes, Alder had his mother’s eyes, his body feeling his older than his eighteen years.
‘Johann, what happened?’
The problem with the question, Johann didn’t know how to answer the question, he had come home to find Alder screaming in his cradle and Tilda ignoring him, bags packed at the door handing him papers giving him sole custody of their unnamed son and divorcing him, without so much of a goodbye, as he calmed their new-born.
He thought they were
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‘Did you name him?’
He started seeing his Mama next to him, as she pets the cooing baby’s hair, ‘He looks like your Vater,’ looking down again Johann noticed that Alders green eyes did match his Vater more than Tilda.
‘Alder’.
A delighted coo came from their Mutter as she stole his son, giving the appropriate loving to his little one.
Johann watched the pair, he swore then and there, Alder would be his priority, he had enough sisters and his Oma to give him the female touch many would insist he needed but that was for now he would focus.
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Johann watched carefully, as the days moved on since Tilda’s suddenly departure from their life, he had finally read the paper she had shoved at him, she had stated irreconcilable differences, when he looked at the letter she had pinned to it, he had been spitting splinters.
Tilda hadn’t wanted children, wanted a life that Johann just couldn’t provide, claimed he was inattentive and abandoned her to look after herself, kept her hidden away from her family and support.
But the soft cries from Alder has settled him quickly, something about holding a small weight who relied on you was enough for him.
As so they built their small life, Alder reaching his milestones, his first word was Papa, he liked the wild flowers, and was the pickiest eater and when he started walking there was no stopping him, and Johann loved every chaotic minute.
Members of his family had tried to convince him that Alder needed a mother and Johann just pointed to his Mama, who was happily filling the spot.
The years had been kind to the small family of two, Johann had found his carpentry business growing which meant he was able to hire some help to run the shoppe, laughing as Alder sat in the counter near the till, “helping” to use his little one’s term.
‘Papa?’ brushing the soft red hair from Alder’s face, he needed a trim.
‘Ja mein kleiner?’ arms went around his neck, ‘I has Mami?’ the curious green eyes looking up at him, such an innocent question, which sent Johann cold, it was one he couldn’t answer.
He distracted his son with a wooden train set.
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At Alder's second Christmas everything changed, the little one had slipped away from his Oma looking for pretty white and red flowers, completely unaware of the commotion he was causing, his Onkel, Tante and Oma was looking for him, but he was hunting like Onkel Otto.
When he heard it his little ear pricking up, a cough, and another, he followed the sound when he heard something drop and he found a pretty lady.
But she was on the ground, her face pale and black hair messy, but she was silly because she didn’t have proper winter clothes like he did.
‘ALDER, ALDER!’
‘PAPA,’ he called loud leaving his jacket over the lady, it was too small but his Papa’s would fit.
Toddling carefully, he called out again shrieking as he was scooped up and huddled against his Papa’s chest, ‘Alder, why did you wander off like that you could have been hurt, and I wouldn’t have known, you promise me you won't wander off like that again, and where is your jacket?’.
Alder pouted his Papa was walking the wrong way, ‘Nein pretty lady, Papa, help,’ he began wiggling escaping making his Papa chase him towards the lady.
‘Papa pretty lady.’ Pointing toward the still sleeping lady in the snow.
He held tight to his Papa's neck, who had carefully wrapped his own coat around the silly lady, making sure Alder had his own on.
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Johann should have learned by now, his son was a neugieriger kleiner Fuchs, always had been, bringing home wild bunnies and such but this he didn’t expect until he was much older.
Johann lay the shivering women on his bed, his mutter making up some water bottled and bed heater, and some soup, make sure the warmest blankets he could were on the bed.
‘Wait outside for the Arzt,’ his mama and schwester shuffling him out of his bedroom Alder being placed in his arms, the tired curled up taking his nap safe in his arms, the adventure tiring him out.
Waiting in his kitchen with Alder, felt like hours, when foot fall above alerted him to the movement in his bedroom, ears pricking as he heard the door shut and creaking of the stairs.
Johann raising his eyebrow at the motley group, ‘The young lady is quite ill, I will leave this here, make sure three times a day, with something soft to eat for now if she gets worse call me straight away otherwise I will be back at the end of the week.’
His mama sat next to him his sister across, ‘Poor lamb was terrified when she woke up, shivering and coughing a storm, she’s sleeping again, maybe we should bring her to my house, I could take care of her you have your hands full with the shop and Alder.’
Johann looked to his bedroom and to his arms, something told him this woman needed to stay here, to send her away would be a mistake.
‘She can stay here, I’ll make up the guest room, Alder will want to make sure his silly lady is safe.’
It was after he put Alder to bed that night he made the room ready when he heard it, unsteady foot falls and harsh coughs.
Opening the door to his bedroom he found her shaking, clinging to the bed post her hair braided off her face, eyes cloudy with fever, but he knew they would be a glorious shade of bright blue, darting forward as she crumpled.
He body light in his arms, she reminded him of a winter flower, so frail but he could see the quiet strength and beauty she carried in her small frame.
Laying her in the guest room, or he supposed her room for now, the small patted edelweiss on the window.
‘Thats what you remind me of’ he brushed a small strand of escaped hair from her sleeping face a soft sigh escaping her ‘Edelweiss’.
‘Sleep well.’
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Victoria had always been drawn to the theatre, her oldest brother / father figure, William , had taken her every birthday from being two, the stage, glowing gold and anmber lights, the crescendo of music captivating her at every turn.
She saw the shimmering dresses and beautiful back drops, and she would imagine it was her on the stage.
It was when she was five years old and her brothers and Grandmamma found her surrounded by her dollies and in her blue puffy dress singing her little heart out.
She was given lessons and she loved everything about them, the music, the new costumes, her second eldest brother James and her sister in law Brandy had let her sing in their restaurant, when some of the agents from the theatre heard her and with John worked out a fair payment for her to start and she quickly rose through the ranks from choir to chorus to extras on the stage her thirteenth birthday when she got her big break and her grandmamma and brothers were sat in the front row.
She quickly became names and the Nightingale of Poplar Village and it was on her sixteenth birthday she had learned about the secrets John had been keeping from the family.
Until one day a knock on her dressing room door after she finished her set changed everything.
Slipping her robe over the under layer of her dress she went go answer, when a strange pair of men slammed the door open, one backing her forcibly against her dressing table, one of his hands gripping her wrist, the other squeezing her face as he pushed his own close to her neck his tongue flicking out against her skin, moving up to her ear telling her how pretty she looked and not to scream or he would do worse, her free hand tried desperately to push him away as the other searched her room finding her purse, emptying across the small table taking the little money she had with her.
She collapsed onto her chair, her body shaking as they left, tears pouring down her face, Victoria desperately tried to control her breathing, clutching her wrist to her chest, the words of the other bouncing around.
‘BLUEBELL!’ panic set in as the door bounced open her brothers spilling into the room as she shook, sobs erupting from her when she saw William .
‘You were amaz... Victoria, bluebell what happened?’
She was pulled into a strong embrace soft spices and warmth invading her nose as she was held close ‘James?’ getting a nod as Victoria hid her face against the broad shoulder, flinching when she the soft hands of her forth brother take her wrist, hissing as he pressed the quickly forming bruises.
‘Songbird who did this?’ the gentle voice broke her as she sobbed once more, as she hid against James his muscled arms surrounding her, holding her like he had as a child, the words tumbled out of her mouth quickly.
When everyone turned to John, his eyes red as he looked at her.
‘Baby girl,’ he went to reach out but Victoria pushed closer to James and Phillip as Clayton stood in front of her, ‘Baby, I...I am so sorry they weren’t supposed to, we had an agreement... they were supposed to leave you alone... you were supposed to be safe, we had deal.’ His voice cracking on the last word.
Victoria felt her eyes burning, her breathing shifting as she tried to hold back the scream, ‘They threatened to... to...if I screamed,’ the corset she still had on felt tighter the longer she sat, ‘Can we go, I want to go home, please James, Phillip, Clayton , please.’
Her Grandmamma shooed the boys out her room quickly as she helped her dress wrapping her own shawl around her shoulders, ‘come peach, lets get you home,’ her arms firmly around her as she was guided out of the room, James flanking her other side and Phillip next to Grandmamma, Clayton blocking John from getting near her.
As soon as they were home she was shuffled straight to her room, her Grandmamma sitting her at her own dressing table after having her change into her night dress and robe, her hair being unpinned, and the silver flash in the mirror as the brush passed through her dark navy hair, the movement soothing and lulling her mind and body, as her Grandmamma lift the lid on her music box, the soft chimes relaxing her further, fingers massaging her scalp.
‘Peach?’ blinking sleepily, the gentle smile as her hair was braided for the night, ‘Come on sweetheart,’ she was laid in the plush bed, head resting on the pillows as the French lavender Grandmamma had her sheets washed in filled her senses, heavy sheets draped over her, ‘Sleep Peach, I'll be right here next to you tonight.’
Humming Victoria felt her eyes slipping shut as the emotions and revelations of the day catching up as she fell into an exhausted sleep.
