Once upon a time, in a far off land, dwelled a family of four- most commonly known as the Whittlewoods.
There was nothing exceptionlly special about this family, their middle class status proved that.
The father was a well renouned Blacksmith, reliable and approachable.
The mother, a Fletcher. It was a very unusual job for a woman at the time.
'A woman making arrows?' some of the men would scoff. She didn't receive much business because of that, but that didn't stop her.
She enjoyed what she did, whether she sold any arrows or not.
Their youngest child, a son of eleven years old, was following closely behind his father.
His dream was to be a Blacksmith also, one just as phenominal as the the man who raised him.
His parents were proud of him...It was their daughter that aroused some form of worry.
She was different from others in her town.
She did not care about what social class people resided in.
She did not care what people did for a living or what they did in their own time.
She spent as much of her time as she could with the peseant children.
Reading them stories, playing with them, giving them food off of her own plate.
She made them happy and she loved that, but her parent could not understand her willingness to give away what little she herself owned.
They told her time and time again to stop with the foolishness, but did she ever listen?
No.
She herself could not fathom the idea of just standing by and watching the children waste away into nothing.
They deserved just as much as she did, so repeatedly she continued to disregard her parents wishes.
The peseant children adored her. They worshipped the ground in which she stood on.
They clung to every word that floated past her lips, eagerly awaiting the next.
The young woman, felt truly happy around these children.
She felt wanted and needed.
The children relied on her.
And after a while, it wasn't just the children that grew attacted.
The other villagers became intrigued, Peseants and middle class alike.
They were all captured by her beautiful stories.
Dying to know what came next.
Whenever she spoke, people stopped what they were currently doing to listen.
After a while her parents became understanding , they know what she wanted- just like she did.
And after seeing her surrounded by people.
A smile adorning each seperate persons's face as they listened in.
They knew. They just knew.
That was where she belonged.
That selfless, radient woman was exactly the daughter they hoped for.
They were more than proud of her, and she knew that.
They didn't have to say utter a word...She just knew.
She continued on like that.
Singing to the children.
YOU ARE READING
Stubborn Love -Klaus
Fanfiction"It's always been you, Niklaus!" I cried at his retreating back, tears streaming down my pale cheeks. "It was always you." I repeated in a whisper. "Why can you not see that anymore?" Klaus' footsteps faultered and he spun around harshly to face me...
