Blossoming Love (a Frazel Fanfic)

Emily on the Nature of Love

    Frank recovered in time to help his family with the harvest. His leg wound was healing up nicely, though he would probably always bear a scar on that calf. "Your first mark of bravery," his mother said.

     "You didn't do too badly, Fai," his grandmother added.

Frank blushed from the top of his nose to his ears. Even better than his grandmother's unexpected praise, however, was Hazel's reaction when she saw him striding towards her for the first time. It had been a week since the accident, but it felt like years. He still wasn't at full strength, but that didn't matter as she tore towards him, her hair flying behind her like a horse's mane.

Her arms clasped around his torso and they hugged. The weather was cooler now and the embrace warmed both their bodies and their souls. "I missed you so much," Hazel said, nuzzling her nose against his chest.

"I was worried for you," Frank confessed. "I feared the wolves might attack."

Hazel looked up at him and smiled. "I'm a shepherdess. I can handle any wolves that come my way."

She was right and yet, Frank had this mad desire to do whatever she wanted. He longed to be the hero saving the beautiful heroine, which was utterly absurd. She was more like Ariadne than Andromeda and he was more like Theseus than Perseus. "You're right," Frank said. "I only worry because I care about you."

   Hazel blushed. "You are too sweet."

    She stood on her tippy toes and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "I'm glad to have you back, Frank."

***

Frank knelt on the ground beside his grandmother. There was a slight breeze and the weather was turning cold. "Hurry up, Fai," his grandmother scolded. "These leeks need to be harvested before the frost sets in."

Frank nodded and got back to work, using the small metal shovel to scoop out dirt. It was the day after he met Hazel and the soil was still soft, but come winter it would be hard and cold. It wasn't just that frost killed their plants; it also prevented farmers for harvesting them.

     Frank put down the shovel and felt something smooth underneath his fingers as they explored the dirt. He used the shovel to clear more dirt away from the area and then pulled up the first leek of the season. "Good job, Frank," his mother said. "Place it in the basket."

    Frank smiled and set the leek in the grass-woven basket. Maybe it made him unmanly, but he still loved it when his mother showed him affection. It made him feel as if he mattered to someone.

As they worked, they talked. The discussion ranged from taxes to the weather and then finally landed on marriage. "Fai, you need to start manning up," his grandmother said.

   He looked up and blinked. "What?"

    His grandmother snorted. "Do you think you'll become a husband and a father without trying?"

     Frank stared at her as she continued. "Many men can have children, but only true men know how to be a good husband and father."

     "Okay," Frank said, dropping his gaze.

      He hadn't thought of that part of his future yet. The thought of having kids kinda scared him. Sure, they were cute, but children often died young and what if he was as clumsy with parenting as he was with most things?

"Don't worry," Frank's mother told him, catching sight of his tense face. "Parenting is as rewarding as it is challenging."

Frank bit his lip. "Perhaps, but I don't think I'd be a good father. . . I didn't grow up with one."

His mother sighed and ruffled his hair. "Remember what I used to tell you growing up?"

Frank nodded. "I can be anything."

His mother's lips reached the sky. "That's right. You can be anything — including a great father."

"But first he'll have to find a strong woman to bear his children," his grandmother interjected.

     Frank's face turned the color of beets and he was glad to stumble upon another leek. As he pried it out of the ground, his mind suddenly stumbled on something he never considered before. He looked up and wet his lips. "Mother, did you love my father?"

     Her expression became distant as if she was looking at something far away. "Loved him? I — yes, but it's not as simple as that."

      Frank bent down to retrieve another leek. "How so?" he asked.

     "I married your father when I was sixteen," Emily said. "I didn't know him that well and he was three years older. I suppose I was lucky, since many girls end up marrying men old enough to be their fathers or grandfathers, but frankly, it was hard."

     Frank looked up. He had never heard this part of the story before and he almost regretted asking. Still, he didn't stop his mother from continuing her tale. "I had you when I was twenty," Emily said. "For a long time, people believed I was barren and your birth . . . It was hard. I was told I'd probably never be able to be a mother again."

    Frank felt a mixture of anger and numbness. He had done this to his mother? "Your father died when you were young," Emily continued. "He went away to fight and died in war. I was told he fought valiantly, even stabbing an enemy soldier as his own life left his body. I grieved for him and I did care about him, Frank."

      She sighed. "I guess you could say I loved him as a friend more than a lover, but that's how most marriages work out. If you're lucky, you can get along, but if not you may end up with someone who makes you miserable. Very few people marry for love; more grow to live their spouse with time."

    Frank nodded and felt an ache of sadness in his heart. He wished to be Hazel's husband, but if that couldn't be, then he hoped that whomever she married would treat her like the princess she was.