Please Come Back

[Anya de la Rose]

((Possible triggers for abandonment.))

Once, when she was very small, Anya's mother had told her that being alone was an important skill to learn. It was useful advice for someone who would be expected to hold her own council, draw her own conclusions and set them in motion with nothing but her own conviction. To be alone in a room full of people was the reality of being in charge and it was not something that came naturally to Anya. She needed to be taught.

Her first lesson was when she was three years old. She had been put to bed by a Nursemaid all but the first few nights of her life. So when her mother came to her room she was overjoyed. This was what she had hoped would happen every night she could remember. She snuggled tight to her mother's side in the bed, listening happily while she was told stories of the petitioners and other households who had visited or sent news. Her eyelids were heavy with sleep as she was lulled by the sound of her mother's voice and the smell of her perfume. She was almost asleep when her mother stood up.

"You'll be falling asleep alone tonight, Anya." The older women's tone did not invite a discussion on the matter. Anya tried anyway, jolted out of her happy drowse and now finding her heart beating against her ribs.

"I don't want to be alone. Can't you stay? I'm afraid of the dark." The girl pleaded.

"The dark is a silly thing to be afraid of. It's just the night." Her mother was already halfway to the door while Anya scrambled from the bed behind her.

"No, mama, please come back!" Her short legs couldn't make it in time to stop the door from closing, leaving her alone. In the morning, her nurse found her curled in a blanket on the floor near the cold hearth. She slept on the floor next to that little light for a month before daring to return to her bed.

Her second lesson was a year later when she went with her half sister into the woods near their home. The older girl had drawn her out with the promise of hunting unicorns, something a four year old found irresistible. They had a rope halter ready and Mariot led Anya to a clearing where she said some local woodsmen had seen one of the creatures the night before.

At Mariot's instruction, Anya sat in the middle of the clearing while the other girl hid outside the trees to wait. Almost immediately, Anya felt her half sister's weight hit her from the side. She struggled underneath the larger girl who had remade the rope halter into a loose loop. She wasn't strong enough to prevent her hands being tied together. She screamed while she was dragged to one of the trees at the edge of the clearing where Mariot looped the rope around the trunk and her body.

"Do you think you can make it home before the wolves eat you?"

Anya sniffled, blinking hard to clear the tears from her eyes. "N-n-no." She took a shaky breath. "Please, Mariot. Don't go."

"Figure it out," Mariot sneered at her, turned and left the clearing.

"Mariot! Please come back!"

Anya did make it home hours later. She was lucky that a seven year old doesn't always tie a tight knot and she had been able to work her way out. Her eyes were red from crying for two days.

When she was five, Anya's father took her hunting with him. She was giddy that morning. Her mother had given her a new hunting habit and her little white pony was polished to a shine by the grooms. She was certain that she looked like she had been on a hundred hunts before.

When the huntsman blew his bugle and the hounds tore off into the underbrush, Anya spurred her pony on with the others. They had barely cleared the first fence when it became evident that Anya on her little mount could not keep pace with the larger horses. Her father reined in until he was cantering next to the smaller horse who was trying with all her might to catch the pack.

"It may have been too early for you to come out." He told his daughter. "Bring your pony home and wait there. We can try again next year."

"We can do it. We can catch up if the others go a little bit slower."

"They won't slow down for one hunter, Anya. You know that. Go home and we can try later." He considered the conversation done. With a click of his tongue and a press of his heels, his horse surged forward, clearing the next fence effortlessly.

"No! Please come back!" Anya cried before nearly tumbling from her pony when it refused the jump. The panicked animal, finding itself alone, turned and bolted. Anya didn't try to stop the little mare from running home. She knew the way.

Years later, her family was gone - dead or presumed so. She had visited RhyDin, built a new family, and lost almost all of them. The only one left was her husband who had traveled back to her childhood home to start a family. They had not succeeded.

One morning, she woke up to find him gone. No hunt had been planned and he never started his work this early. The greatsword he had taken from the family armory was leaning against the wall. The simple silver signet ring she'd given him on their wedding day was on the mantle. She laid back down in their bed, staring at the ceiling.

She didn't cry. There was no one to ask to come back. No one ever did anyway.