Silence

If you had asked me, at the beginning of my trials, what the worst part was, I'd certainly have told you it was the pain. At least, I would have told you that, had I been allowed to speak- which of course I was not.

In the beginning I thought the pain was unendurable- it was all I could do to keep from crying out with every touch, and the soundless tears streamed down my face without pause. I had spent my entire life protected and pampered, never feeling anything more harsh than the soft grass of the lawn. The first time I, in my innocence, reached down to grab a nettle- well, I almost lost everything before I'd even begun. But I bit back my yelp and was silent.

In the end it was the silence that was most difficult, you see. After enough time had gone by the pain became bearable; the body adapts wonderfully well, and before two years had passed I hardly noticed the pain at all. It was just the way things were. But I never, ever got used to the silence, to the tedium and the loneliness such silence brings. My brothers had each other, but I had no one, could not even sing to pass the time as I turned plants into fiber, fiber into cloth, cloth into garments.

No one, that is, until he came. Before he came I thought I knew how frustrating the silence was, but in truth I had no idea. Until he came, and fell in love with me, and carried me off and married me against my will... Maybe I might have loved him, had things been different. But as it was- I literally had no say in the matter. I couldn't even resist- how could I deny a king whatever he might want? At least he was honorable enough to marry me- and if I had tried to fight him off, or escape, he might have taken away my work- or worse, he might have killed me, and then my brothers would never be free. And so I was married to a man who fell in love with a woman without a voice, and who had no interests outside making shirts.

Oh, of course the times with the children and the blood smears were pretty bad, too- and there's no denying that coming so close to being burned alive was also horrible. But none of it compares to my current torment. My brothers are free- even the youngest, with his single arm- but I remained trapped, queen of a country that is not my own, mother to three children I do not know, and married to a man who so fears my power that he will not speak to me as once he did, but instead leaves me in solitude.

And so I pass my time in silence still, and long for the days when nettle stings were the greatest of my pain.