PRIDE (Leona x Reader) [Twisted Wonderland]

Chapter 1

When evening fell, you went out to get water. The well in town was the only source of it, since Grandmother's house, along with all of the neighboring houses, wasn't equipped with one of its own.

You filled a bucket and balanced it on the side of the well. You weren't really very good for carrying heavy things, as much as you wished you were, and the long trek back to your grandmother's house was always the worst part of your day. On days that it rained, you were lucky enough to get out of it, but it hadn't rained for a whole week now, and it didn't look like it was going to anytime soon.

You picked the bucket up and hefted it onto your shoulder, but could only make it a few paces before you were forced to reposition it at your front, in both hands. Halfway through the walk, a voice interrupted your struggles.

"You're still working for that dreaded old woman, witch?" grumbled a man leaned against a wall. You looked at him, startled, and he took a swig from his bottle, letting some of it dribble onto his beard. This was Vancok, the disgruntled ex european representative, and the towns resident drunkard.

You averted your eyes and nodded, and tried to hurry your pace. Vancok leaned forward and tried to peer into your bucket. "What's you got there?" he asked. "Poisons?" He clicked his tongue like that was exactly what he expected from you. Poisoning, thieving, voodoo. You shook your head fervently.

"It's just water," you said quietly. "I have to take it home to boil it."

"Home," he crewed. "That what your calling it? That woman deserves to be poisoned, letting a thing like you in her house. Any day now she'll be kicking you out onto the streets, if she doesn't keel over first. She's at her wit's end and we all know it."

"She wouldn't do that," you said. She'd threatened to so many times, but surely, surely you were worth enough that she should keep you. You doubted she could collect her water on her own, for one. Grandmother was much too old for that, and her bones were to brittle for any manual labors. Even recently she'd passed the duty of milking the cows onto you.

Vancok just laughed, though, and moved to grab the water from your hand. "Give me this," he said. "And leave that blasted old woman alone."

You moved to stop him, but he pulled it away in a slumping languid motion and had it dumped onto the ground before you could make up your mind to protest. The water turned the dirt of the path into mud, and carried down into the dried up ditch that separated the grass. You picked up the bucked and sloshed the remaining inch of water around.

You could've said something to Vancok, but your anger would've only ruled the man more. Besides, you weren't really angry. You weren't sure what you felt. Tired, you decided, and you walked the rest of the way back with what little water remained in your saffron wooden bucket

When you reached the small house that Grandmother waited inside of, you knocked on the door. It was something she always insisted, a politeness, that everyone who wasn't her would knock on the door, wipe off their feet, and call out to her when they entered. That was what you did, as always, but your call went unanswered. You walked into the next room and found her snoring, asleep on the chair at her bedside, the one her husband had always sat at before he'd passed away. You had never met Grandmother's husband, but you'd heard both good and ba.

You reached out and tapped on the old woman's sweater. "Mrs.Linkin." She stirred and looked up at you with hazy eyes, and grunted.

"Took you long enough. Go get the food on." And she closed her eyes again.

"Um, about that..."

"What about it?" She huffed. "Are you not gonna cook for me?"

"I-well, when I was getting the water, um..."