Chapter 6

The time flew by. There was always something that needed doing and extra hands were always welcome. By the time Kristabell had been with Rowan's family for three weeks she was comfortable with the language and although she wasn't particularly articulate, it hadn't been like learning a whole new language from scratch. After a time there was less picking and more preparing of food to ready for winter. She spent two days in the kitchens with Rowan's mother, Fenna, and some of the other women in the household, in addition to the two younger boys, chopping cabbage for sauerkraut.

Kristabell, being an only child, had no experience with younger siblings but she found herself enjoying Dunstan and Gareth's company in a way that surprised her. She'd had no idea how entertaining adolescent boys could be and she found their antics hysterically funny which meant that they always went out of their way to make her laugh. As they'd chopped away at the giant heap of cabbages both boys goofed off trying to get a laugh out of Kristabell until Bronwen finally exclaimed, “You boys are driving me crazy. If you don't pipe down I'll send you to Thomas and let him find something for you to do and Kristabell, if you don't stop encouraging them I'll send you too!”

By the end of the day she'd found herself in a potting shed with the two boys repairing the nets that they used for the peas and the beans. At least out there they weren't driving Bronwen crazy.

Another two days were spent making salves, simples, creams and tinctures with the herbs that had been picked and prepared over the summer. It had been fascinating to be included in this. It was work that was satisfying to Kristabell and she liked the smells of the herbs, infused oils and beeswax. They were wonderful things to work with and when they were done it was nice to see all the little pots of salves and bottles of tinctures lined up on the shelf. Bronwen said that they had turned out better than they had the year before. There was enough beeswax left over that Bronwen told Fenna that if she and Kristabell liked they could make themselves a batch of nice skin cream, so they used a chamomile infusion along with some rose and calendula infused oils that Fenna had prepared earlier in the summer. When they were done they had four little pots of beautiful, smooth, sweetly scented skin cream. One for each of them, and Bronwen and Nessa as well.

There were other times too, over those weeks, when they would take a break, a short breather to unwind and recharge. Picnics with Leif, Nessa, Fenna, and the two younger boys. They would lie on a big blanket in an orchard and eat and talk, sing, tell jokes and riddles. Nessa could be very funny in a dry way. She could make even the dour Leif laugh. Kristabell asked Rowan once when they were alone at one end of the hazelnut orchard loading baskets onto a cart, “Is Leif always so taciturn?” 

“No. He's peeved at me. Don't take him personally,” Rowan had answered. Kristabell didn't ask further.

*

As the equinox neared and they were in the thick of the last truly hot days of summer the temptation to slip down to the lake was impossible to ignore. Nessa, Fenna and Kristabell would wander down before dinner, slip out of their clothes, and gratefully immerse themselves in the cool clean lake, letting the water rinse away the sweat and grime of the day. It was one of those last days. Nessa was lying on the beach snoozing on a blanket, and Kristabell and Fenna were still drifting in the water, all too aware that it might be the last swim until next summer, when Fenna asked, “So, has my brother kissed you yet?”

Kristabell blushed dark pink right to the roots of her hair. She wasn't sure where to start or what to say, because Rowan had kissed her. He had continued to leave little gifts on her pillow. A hand woven wreath of barley, a hollow painted quail egg, a little carved wooden bird, flowers. One morning she had woken to find a small dish of perfectly ripe late figs on her night stand which, of course, meant that he had snuck into her room while she was sleeping. Each time he gave her one of these little gifts Kristabell would know that it had been him. He would be waiting to gauge her reaction, waiting to see her smile. She would walk into the dining hall in the morning and he would be watching for her, and when their eyes met she would always smile. She couldn't help it. She would sit down at the table next to him and he would smile back and say to her, “I like it when you smile.” And when they'd finished eating his hand would invariably seek hers under the table, feeling for the soft skin on the back of her hand as he laced his fingers into hers. As sweet and simple as they were, those little gifts, and the feel of his hand on hers, left her thinking about him every night as she fell asleep, and each morning when she woke, and well . . . if she was honest with herself, most of the day too. And then one night, as dinner ended and everyone had trailed up the stairs on tired feet destined for welcoming beds and much desired sleep, she had found herself left behind, and as she'd walked out into the wide hallway Rowan had been standing at the other end holding a candle, on his way to the west wing where his rooms were. He'd looked at her, and she at him. It was so quiet. So still. He'd walked to where she stood and looked into her eyes. Kristabell had looked straight back at him feeling frozen in the moment as his hand rose slowly to her cheek and he'd slowly leaned forward watching her eyes as he did, silently asking permission. Kristabell couldn't believe how her heart had pounded as his lips touched hers in a warm yielding kiss that lingered, and how she hadn't even realized that she was kissing him back until they'd disengaged and stood there looking at each other in the flickering candle light. Kristabell knew that she wanted to go wherever it was that his kiss could lead her.

“Goodnight . . . Kristabell,” he'd whispered.

“Good . . . Goodnight,” she whispered back.

And then he'd turned and walked away leaving her in the dark and then turned back suddenly, smiling and bringing the light back with him. They'd kissed again, a little furiously this time, then he'd pulled back and put the candle in her hands.

“Goodnight.” He smiled

She smiled back at him, “Goodnight.”

And he melted away into the darkness. For a moment or two Kristabell didn't move and then she'd hurried up the stairs and into bed with her heart pounding for what had felt like hours.

Kristabell shook herself out of her reverie and looked at Fenna who was wringing water out of her hip length molasses coloured hair and talking, “Come. I know Rowan fancies you. I've never seen him so worked up over a girl before.”

Still blushing, Kristabell admitted to having been kissed. Fenna splashed around excitedly in the water squeaking, “I knew it! I knew it!”

Later that night as Kristabell lay sprawled over the foot of Fenna's bed, Fenna asked her, more seriously this time, “If Rowan asks you to be his wife, will you say yes?”

Kristabell couldn't give the question a direct answer. First of all, four weeks ago, marriage had been the furthest thing from her mind. Allan was the only male she'd had much contact with over the last year, and he thought she was a freak. And then of course there was Evan, but Kristabell sent that thought packing. She was still adjusting to the knowledge that Rowan found her acceptable and that eighteen, which was generally considered too young to get married in her old life, was also acceptable in this world. Kristabell also readily admitted to herself that she really disliked the thought of a wedding. The idea of all that attention focused on her made her nauseous, and there was obviously no birth control in this world. Most families had at least four or five children. When she walked down to the village with Rowan there were children everywhere. If she agreed to be his wife she would be pregnant before the year was up and as much as she wanted Rowan physically, she had to remind herself of what the end result of sex would be, and she wasn't quite sure that she was ready for motherhood. She would also prefer to know someone intimately before marriage. She looked at Fenna, turning the question over in her mind a few more times before answering. “If I tell you how I feel about this, you have to promise me that you won't tell Rowan. I don't want what I say to you to change what he feels for me, or what he might do.” 

“I won't say anything, I swear I won't,” Fenna promised solemnly.

“The truth is that I don't think I'll be able to answer that question until he asks me himself. If, that is, he's planning on asking me. The idea of a wedding and babies makes me . . . well, apprehensive to say the least but . . .” she smiled a little, “I don't think I would say no.”

Fenna nodded still serious. “If it puts your mind at ease, we no longer have weddings. It is an antiquated tradition that was abandoned during hard times. It is customary to have a feast to celebrate the union after the fact, but it is usually not a terribly formal affair. Just family, close friends, and lots of food.”

“If there's no wedding, then what makes me his wife?” Kristabell asked, puzzled.

“His asking you and your consent essentially,” Fenna answered. “In theory at that point the relationship would be consummated,” Fenna blushed. “But it is your word that counts, and his. It is your willingness to commit to each other and recognize each other as husband and wife that is important. Our law is very specific about this. If he is planning to ask you he will have told our parents and probably Nessa and Leif. If a girl claims that a man asked her to be his wife just to get his way with her he can get into trouble. The punishment is severe so a man who is serious will cover his ass by telling someone or asking the girl's mother before he asks so that she cannot accuse him of falsehood after the fact if his true intention really was a committed relationship. The same applies to a woman who does the asking. But if the answer is yes, there is no wedding. It's a question of love, not formality and if no love or commitment exists then it is just two people screwing, which is fine. We are not a prudish people, but it always comes with the risk of pregnancy and if a woman doesn't have the resources to care for a child on her own, or a family to support her it can be difficult if her lover cannot support her either. There are farms and other places where single women with children can go and work to support their children, but most people prefer to raise a child with someone they love.”

“What about diseases?” Kristabell asked

“What do you mean?”

Kristabell had to explain STDs to Fenna who looked slightly nauseated.

“There is not much disease amongst our people. Unless someone is very old or in the advanced stages of an illness the Fay can usually heal them, and if not they die, which limits the spread of the disease.” Then Fenna grinned, “And as for babies, I know that your family is small, but, it's not like that here. You would have lots of help and a good fairy midwife. My mother and Nessa and I would all be here to make things easier.” 

Kristabell was silent. It was all so strange here. No boyfriends. No months or years to decide if someone was right for you. A kiss could lead to a husband. She wasn't sure if one way was any better than the other. One thing was certain though, regardless of what anyone else thought about a union between herself and Rowan, as far as Fenna was concerned, it was all good.