Realization

For: "The Writer's Cramp" .

Dominika was beautiful.  It was funny, given how often Gavriil saw her, how little he noticed, but she was.  Today she was at her finest, rich red-brown hair caught up with shining silver pins.  She wore her grandmother’s dress of silk and lace, ivory with age.  Most important to her beauty was the smile that curved her full lips and set blue eyes to dancing.

Gavriil could remember the first time he’d ever seen her.  Her entire body had been the bright red of her painted lips and wrinkled besides.  She’d been tiny and bald and squalling louder than anything he had ever heard in his life.  Ganya had reached out and Minka had reached back, gripping his fingers with surprising strength.  He’d liked her immediately.

“We’re going to be friends,” he had told her.

***

There had been a grand storm one night that had left rain pooled on the ground.  As any good friend would, Ganya had taken Minka out to see it.

“Mud,” he said.  Minka was still learning new words and mud was an excellent one.  “Puddle,” Ganya demonstrated the use of these, leaping in with both feet.  A great wave of water splashed everywhere.  A great deal of it ended up on Minka who laughed delightedly.  It also startled a fat green frog into flight.  “Frog!” Ganya announced and they both chased after it.

Ganya still thought the morning had been well worth the thrashing afterwards.

***

“I don’t want to get married,” Minka had announced from her perch in the tree above him.

“Who’ll take care of you then?”

“I can take care of myself,” she threw an apple at him, but not too hard and it was a good ripe one too.

“Yeah,” Ganya agreed.  It had been a stupid thing for him to say.  Most girls needed a husband to take care of them.  Minka could catch a frog, ride a horse and use a sword as well as Ganya could.

“I know.  I can marry you!  Then I can do what I want,” Minka sounded completely delighted with the idea.  Ganya just shrugged, girls, even Minka, were weird.

The second apple hit him hard enough to knock him out of the tree.

***

“Betrothed,” Ganya repeated.

“Since you were little,” his mother said.

“It’s not so bad.  You two get along well enough,” Minka’s father said.

“I’d never met your mother when we got married and now we’re rather…fond of each other,” his father said in a teasing tone.  His mother hit his father on the arm.

“Betrothed,” was still all the words Ganya could manage.

“Is it really so awful?” Minka looked almost ready to cry and Minka never cried.

“No, it’s not,” Ganya could feel a smile spread across his face and Minka looked exasperated instead of sorrowful.  “It’s really, really not.”

***

“I do,” said Ganya.

478 words