The Better (but Dimmer) Half

[Angharad Warbeck]

November 9, 1884, before dawn

I had been a whole month today that Angharad had been at the MacFusty castle (which was much worse than the almost a month it had been a few days ago when she had tried to get her revenge against Torquil MacFusty) and she had gotten to know the other kids in the castle a lot more, particularly since she’d been forced to go to what were possibly the most boring lessons ever with that Horrible governess. There were, as far as she knew, four of them. Kennard was older than her, Ilysa and Kitten were her age and Lir was younger than her (though he was about her size and she usually had to do the same work as him during lessons). One might think that she would be excited to have so many kids close to her age around, but the truth was that she avoided them as much as she could. They seemed alright, if a bit too fond of Miss Fairclough (formerly Miss Dárine until she got some poor idiot to marry her by accident), but she was determined to dislike them, or at least the older three, simply by the merit of who they were and she had learned from her experience with Torquil that such a thing was hard to do if you got to know someone too much. She already couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry for them having MacFustys as das. Torquil may have turned out to be alright but it was clear that the only MacFustys that knew even the first thing about kids were Mary and Jamie and neither of them had any kids. You wouldn’t find any of Jamie’s kids stuck in stupid lessons instead of hunting like all of them always had been and Mary knew lots of other things, like braiding hair and telling proper stories, which she had never seen any of the other MacFustys do. Her one consolation on their behalf was that all of them were old enough to take care of themselves, horrible das or not.

Or, at least, that was what she had thought until not a half an hour earlier when she had come up from the dungeon to change from her nightdress into proper clothes and had somehow turned down the wrong corridor and walked six doors down straight into a room that she had never seen before. The sight that greeted her when she opened the door was a disturbing one. There were tons of babies sleeping in beds with bars on them all around the room. Some of them were really small, others were a little bigger, she even thought she’d seen some of them before, being pushed around in a pram outside by an old lady, but she’d never thought that they might be MacFusty babies. Now, though, it was undeniable. She’d known the moment she saw them that she couldn’t just leave them behind for their useless MacFusty das to pick up them too hard and crush them or forget that they were babies and feed them to a dragon, but there were way too many for her to save them all at once. She would have to take them one by one, starting with the smallest and working up to the biggest one she could still carry. It took her awhile to figure out how to get the babies out of the barred beds, but once she did, the first baby wasn’t much trouble. Even though it was really tiny, shorter than her arm even, it was pretty heavy, but the seven year old was still able to carry it downstairs to the kitchen and lay it on the bottom shelf of a cupboard without it waking up. The second one didn’t go too badly either. It was even heavier than the first and, just as they were leaving the room, it started to fuss and whine, but it soon fell back asleep and she managed to get it into a big, empty flour bin, leaving the lid cracked just a bit for air, without it waking up. When she went up for the next smallest baby, though, she could hear an adult, moving around inside, looking for the missing babies. As much as it pained her to do so, she had to turn back and leave the other babies to fend for themselves until she got a chance to come back for them.

She ran as quickly as she could back downstairs and found something to do that wouldn’t draw too much suspicion towards her if that old lady came down looking for the babies (namely, drawing paper and a pen that had been left behind by the servants the night before). She was a horrible drawer, but that didn’t make much of a difference. The other kids were horrible drawers too and they still liked it well enough. An adult definitely wouldn’t be quick enough to realize that it was an act. She would just have to leave the babies where they were and keep going on as normal until everyone forgot about them, then she could bring them to Mary to take care of or get Jamie to come get them so he could teach them to hunt when they were big enough and have Gunna help take care of them like they were her puppies in the meantime. Both of them had enough scran for a couple of babies and the babies would be much better off with them than any other stupid MacFustys. She had only been drawing and planning for a couple of moments when she heard someone come into the room. The footstep sounded too heavy to be the old lady she’d seen with the babies before, but, just in case, she set herself to the task of drawing, pretending to be so focused on her paper that she hadn’t even noticed the man (whose footsteps were distinctly manly) come in.

@Ezra Fairclough

  

[Ezra Fairclough]

Ezra hadn’t been sleeping well lately, which was understandable. He was in a strange place, sleeping in a strange bed with no sense of familiarity about him. Nuala and he agreed upon sleeping in different rooms for the time being, which was fine. Even though they were married, they still barely knew each other and it had been tough finding time to get to know one another. Ezra still worked at the Apothecary and Nuala still had her duties as a governess. Their jobs didn’t leave them much time to mingle and sometimes they didn’t even have a chance to talk before going to bed.

Ezra’s mind had been weighed down with cares such as these, but also deeper cares too. He often wondered if he made the right decision in staying with Nuala, but he always came back to the same answer: yes. Although society had little expectations for those of the lower class, Ezra still had his own personal code and honor to uphold. Even though marriage had come to them unexpectedly, Ezra couldn’t let Nuala carry the weight alone. What if they had decided to annul their marriage? Most likely, no one would have been the wiser. But then there was a thought that had been nagging Ezra since they realized what they had done together: What if Nuala became pregnant? The woman would be left to raise the child alone. She would never likely say who the father was, but she would be labeled in a terrible way. There was even the chance that Ezra would never be the wiser to her pregnancy (should she be pregnant) and never have any knowledge of it.

Considering her history, Ezra simply couldn’t bring himself to abandon the poor woman, however unconventional their marriage was. Of course, he would leave if she asked him to; there really were no attachments between them beyond a relatively amicable (albeit awkward) acquaintanceship.

These thoughts plagued him as he wandered the corridors of the castle. He spent most of his mornings wandering this place, trying to get a feel for it. Ezra had never been in such a confusing place in all of his life. He felt that the castle was just too big, but the MacFustys were a rather large family. He supposed it was just too large a space for him. After all, the Irishman was accustom to small shacks and shabby, one-room apartments. He wasn’t used to places of grandeur like this.

His thoughts and wanderings were distracted by some sounds. His ears perked at them. First, there was the sound of small, shuffling feet and then the slight fussing of a baby. Curious, Ezra veered down the hall where the sounds were coming from. It took him longer than he cared to admit to find the right area at first, but he found it at last and dipped into the nursery. Babies slept in their cribs, unperturbed. Ezra walked quietly, examining each infant. A smile couldn’t help but creep across his face. The sleep babes made him think of Caoimhe when she was new. Their chubby cheeks, round faces—they were all quite adorable. As he walked the rows of cribs, he noticed two beds were disturbed and baby-less.

The sound of small, running feet quickly caught his attention. The baby thief was still nearby. Ezra decided to follow the sound, though he didn’t hurry. He suspected it was one of the children, though he hadn’t met any of them. He strode down the stairs to find a girl sitting at a quaint table, drawing. Her rosy cheeks and somewhat-heavy breathing gave her away, but Ezra didn’t say anything at first. He looked around the room at first, looking for any tell-tale signs of hiding places. He noticed the one flour bin’s lid was slightly off-set and then he noticed a small bundle on the bottom-most shelf of the cupboard.

He wondered what the girl planned to do with these babies. Did she plan to hide all the MacFusty nurslings around the castle? Judging by her looks, she wasn’t a MacFusty. She was too fair in her looks. Who was she then, he wondered.

He walked over and retrieved the baby from the bottom of the cupboard first. He handled it gently like a porcelain doll. “It seems we have fairies in the castle,” he said softly, so not to disturb the sleeping tot. “But they forgot the changelings to leave behind in the beds.

“Do you think that’s why they tried to hide the babies? Because they forgot the changelings? Or do you think it was someone else who tried to steal the babies?” he questioned, looking at the girl who busied herself with drawing.

  

[Angharad Warbeck]

The footsteps got closer and closer, then eventually stopped. There was some shuffling, like the man was turning around, then the footsteps picked up again and she heard the telltale creak of the floorboard near the cabinet. She cursed internally, but kept her eyes fixed determinedly on the paper as if she had neither knowledge of nor interest in anything that he might be doing. She would just have to go back some other time and save it then, probably when she went to get the bigger babies. Hopefully, nothing would happen to it in the meantime and he wouldn’t find the other baby or figure out that she was the one who had taken them. The last of those hopes was quickly dashed, however, when the man started to speak. He was rattling on about faeries having taken the babies and forgetting to leave changelings in their place, but she didn’t buy it for a moment. Especially with the stupid, shit-eating tone that way too many adults seemed to use with children.

She couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Honestly, how dumb did she think he was? He’d obviously figured out that it was her, unless he was even dumber than she thought, anyhow. He ought to have just told her that instead of making up some jobby about faeries coming for the babies. Faeries weren’t even big enough to carry babies and, even if they were, it wouldn’t be MacFusty babies that they went for. They could find smaller, lighter ones almost anywhere they looked. But, if he wanted to spout nonsense like she was some kind of a moron just because she was a kid, fine. She would play along. “Maybe they saw hoo glaikit ye waur an' did nae hink they needed th' changelings.” She countered sarcastically, setting down her pencil with a click and looking up at him. She had never seen him before (though she had already suspected that from the unfamiliarity of his voice and his gait). He had light hair and eyes like her, a longish, narrow face and an almost reddish beard. Most of all, he was small. Not as small as her or the mistress, but definitely smaller than any MacFusty she’s ever seen. Her eyes narrowed, adding to the pointedly disdainful look that she was already giving him. “Yoo dinnae swatch loch a MacFusty. Yoo arenae huge enaw.” She noted matter-of-factly, her gaze shifting down towards the wee babe in his arms.

Suddenly, she slid her legs around the other side of the chair, hopped off and approached him, lifting her arms up towards the still-sleeping baby. “Gife it tae me.” She demanded in a voice which suggested that unpleasant things may ensue for him if he failed to comply. “It's tay wee fur ye. Yoo’ll smoosh it.” He may not have been the size of a MacFusty man, but he was still awfully big to hold something as tiny and smooshable as a baby without an ounce of sense to back him up. Mary wasn’t much smaller than him, but she would know better than to hold a baby the wrong way or to do…well, whatever else he might do to hurt it, but, as it seemed she wouldn’t get a chance to give it to Mary or to Gunna, it would have to settle for her.

Translations:
“Maybe they saw hoo glaikit ye waur an' did nae hink they needed th' changelings.”- Maybe they saw how stupid you were and didn't think they needed the changelings.

“Yoo dinnae swatch loch a MacFusty. Yoo arenae huge enaw.” - You don't look like a MacFusty. You aren't huge enough.

“Gife it tae me.”- Give it to me.

“It's tay wee fur ye. Yoo’ll smoosh it.”- It's too small for you. You'll smoosh it.

@ Ezra Fairclough

  

[Ezra Fairclough]

The little girl’s sarcastic reply to Ezra’s questions showed him that his approach to the problem had been a poor choice. Obviously, the girl felt that he had insulted her intelligence and she wasn’t interested in playing his game. He had little experience with children, outside of Caoimhe. As a younger child, Caoimhe had found such antics amusing. It made it easier for her to tell the truth.

“I’m sorry,” he decided to say in reply. “I didn’t mean any offense by what I said.”

When she stated that he didn’t look like a MacFusty, he nodded in agreement. He certainly wasn’t large or burly. He was actually a rather lanky sort of man in comparison to the towering MacFusty brood. “No, I’m not a MacFusty,” he verbally confirmed. “My name is Ezra. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” he greeted semi-formally with a kind smile, gently rocking the babe in his arms. The infant seemed unperturbed by his presence and comfortable in his arms.

It was then that the girl demanded the baby. Her concern was evident. She did really believe that he would squash the baby?

“It is a wee thing, isn’t it? But I promise take extra care of this one,” he answered, his voice sincere.

“Why don’t you grab the one that you stored in the bin over there and we put them back in their beds? I should think their family will worry if they find their little ones gone,” he suggested.

  

[Angharad Warbeck]

Angharad pointedly ignored both Ezra's apology and his introduction. Keeping her arms lifted up insistently towards the sleeping infant, she countered his offer to return the babies together with the ready defense "Whit bairn in th' bin? Ah ainae seen a ein an' Ah ainae gettin' it neither until ye gezz thes ein." her eyes were narrowed up at the stupid faerie man as of he were her physical equal. "Thaur fowk dornt caur abit them anyhaw if they ley them wi' some auld quine what's in the wey o die jist loch they lae us kids wi' 'at glaikit, gantin' auld governess." 

He obviously wasn't bright enough to see reason, so her only hope at this point was sheer stubbornness, which, luckily for both her and the baby, she was very good at. As for the baby in the bucket, she knew that even he wasn't dumb enough to believe for a second that she hadn't known it was there, but he couldn't prove that she did either unless she admitted it, so there was no chance of that happening. She'd sooner blame it on faeries.