The story of Pire, Nahuel's mother, and how he came to be. Do NOT read if you haven't read Breaking Dawn.! You won't understand it most likely AND it might spoil a little. DISCONTINUED.
Summary says it all! I hope you like it and remember: DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVE NOT READ BREAKING DAWN. Enjoy! =D
2. Chapter Two
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The first thing I was consciously aware of in the morning was a shaking movement, apparently very, very near by the affect it was having on my body. As things started to clear up, I noticed the reason it was very near was because it was me, being shaken by none other than dear old sis, Huilen.
“What are you doing?” I groaned, shifting away from her. I was tired beyond reason, having stayed up until past midnight and having to take on two different jobs since Makka had been sick for the past few days.
“You need to wake up!” Huilen urged, turning me over.
I squinted into the bright line weaving itself in through the window. “Why? I’m sleepy,” I groaned, turning away again.
“It is Saturday!”
Saturday. That got to me. I jumped up to my feet in an instant. “Saturday?”
“Yes. Are you not excited?! Mohala is home!” she gushed, a smile which was meant to be contagious quickly spreading across her face.
I frowned. Mohala was home? My eyes grew wide, “Mohala?” I whispered. Mohala was - to say in a few words - my fiancé. I had not exactly agreed to be wed to him, nor did he have to ask, despite the fact that he did. We had been engaged since the very beginning, even before I had met him, I knew I was to wed the stranger. It had been arranged by my parents and his while my mother lay in a cot, barely having given birth to me.
I had no choice in the matter.
Of course, Mohala was a very kind man. Any girl in the small tribe of our people would have said yes and eagerly would have accepted the fact that they had to marry him, become his woman and bear his children. Every girl but I.
I struggled to put on my garments and ran my fingers through my hair in attempt to tame the angry mess. Despair ran its way through my veins, carving in and out through my insides.
Huilen saw my anxious expression and her small lips turned down into a frown. She assessed my clearly-not-supposed-to-be-like-this expression and was suddenly suspicious. “Are you not happy? You love the man.” She squinted her eyes and stared at me. “Mohala did not give you the chain, did he?” she accused.
I sighed. “No, it was not Mohala. I told you; it was a friend.”
“Would this friend be of the name . . . oh, Tunih?” she prodded, recognizing my old crush for the neighboring boy, Makka’s younger brother.
“No, it was not Tunih, either.”
“Then who, Pire?” she asked innocently.
“What? Can I not have my secrets?”
She sighed and got to her feet, glaring knowingly at me. “Pire, you do know that Tunih likes you, right? Do you not think that it would be unfair to him if you led him on this way? You are engaged to Mohala, you can’t be flirting with him in this manner,” she scolded, crossing her arms over her chest.
“I do not flirt with Tunih, I told you, it was just a friend.” A very, very good friend.
“Whatever, but you should know that mother would never approve of this behavior, Pire.”
“Yes, Huilen, I know.” I thought for a second and then eased myself out of the mess. “No one gave me the chain, I just said that so you would get jealous. I was just kidding, so you have no reason to be upset.”
“Why would I be jealous if a man gave you a necklace? It wouldn’t phase me in the least,” Huilen lifted her chin, defending herself. “I do not care for relationships or any of the kind, I am quite content just with myself, thank you very much.”
“Right,” I snickered, praising my genius on the inside. I was just too good.
She sighed in frustration again, unfolding her arms and walking to the opening of the hut. “You should hurry, Mohala is impatient to see you. I’ll go tell them that you are on your way out.”
I stared after her retreating figure as it disappeared from my view, then slumped lazily into the ground. Great. Just great. Why did he have to return home now? He’s been gone all this time and he decides to come now, when I have finally found purpose in life? Purpose that didn’t involve him. I only wish that he could have come later, when I had fled with my prince.
“Joy,” I grumbled to myself, placing my head in my hands.
I sat against the wall and sighed, stumbling to my feet. They were sure to grow suspicious if I did not arrive. I glanced at my reflection in the pool of water just outside our window of beads and walked forward, in the direction of the well, which was dead center in our group of huddled huts.
I passed a few people on the way there and waved gently. Everyone knew each other here.
Tunih saw me and smiled a wide gleaming smile as he waved at me happily. I frowned a little and waved back at him. “Hey Tunih!” I called.
If possible, I would have sworn I saw his impossibly huge smile grow grander. “Hey Pire!” he waved again. He left his wood-work on a small boulder used as a table and jogged up to my side, muddy green eyes twinkling. “Where are you headed to?” he asked, thrilled.
I hesitated as I looked at his face from the corner of my eyes, biting my lower lip. “Oh, the old well,” I sang, meaning to pull off a casual façade, when I was sweating buckets on the inside, nervous. Could I break my promise to Mohala? To my mother? My family and his?
I shook my head. Of course I could! I could and most importantly would do anything if it meant Joham and I could be together for the rest of our lives. Anything for Joham.
“Oh, I thought you worked out near the stream?” Curiosity rang in his pretty eyes, also confusion and a slight look of hope.
“Yeah, I do . . . but Mohala is home. I am going out to greet him.” I smiled. I should be happy, I should be happy.
“Oh . . . ,” and his expression grew dark, sad. I didn’t want to disappoint him, he was a good guy. A very nice guy, but even if I knew he shouldn’t worry about Mohala, I couldn’t tell him who he should worry about. He knew exactly what this meant for him, though, that the last string of hope he held was now shredded, didn’t exist.
We slowed down and he stopped abruptly, eyes cast at the dirt ground. I stopped a few feet ahead, in watching distance from the sturdy rock well and turned around to face him. I didn’t want him to feel sad.
“Pire!” someone squealed, running towards me. I didn’t recognize the voice but when I turned my face in the direction which it came from, I most definitely recognized the face.
Her short black hair bounced as she ran forward and all to soon I was embracing her. “Carre?” I whispered.
She nodded and smiled gigantically at me.
I threw myself at her again. “Oh my goodness! What are you doing here? I haven’t seen you since when? Age eleven?”
She smiled a little and laughed. “I think we were eight, actually.”
I hugged her again, smiling genuinely this time. “Oh my goodness! I can’t believe it is you!”
Carre, who was about one year older than me, was another good friend. Another great friend. We had spent most of our childhood playing together, running around and chasing the boys while laughing and enjoying the ripe fruit that grew in the trees of the surrounding jungle.
Unfortunately, her father was a hunter, an explorer, and he and his family had left almost a decade ago. I had missed Carre so much, she was like family, we all were, but we held a stronger bond than blood and bone, soul and mind practically.
Apart from Huilen, there was no one else I could put my trust in so much.
We pulled apart and examined each other. “Carre! You grew taller than me!”
“Oh my, Pire! You look amazing!”
We squealed and hugged again. “What are you doing back home?” I asked, ignoring the others in the background, Mohala including.
“Ah! Well, we were thinking about coming back for a while and then I ran into Mohala! I didn’t know the two of you were to wed! Oh my goodness! When is the ceremony? I have to attend!” she gushed, ecstatic at the news. As ecstatic as I should be.
“Oh! Yeah, umm . . . We’re not exactly sure right now. Later this year, perhaps?” I grumbled, distraught suddenly. Mohala was walking this way.