Birthmark
“Tell me again,” Sofia whispered, as she ran a finger across Jakob’s chest, etching the irregular outline of his pale birthmark, “The story of your birthmark.” Her voice was so soft, a gentle gust of wind from the open window could have swept it away completely.
He grabbed her hand and kissed her fingertips. Each kiss sending electricity shooting up Sofia’s hand and into her heart. She closed her eyes and melted deeply into the warmth of his body.
“I don’t remember much,” Jakob began, linking his hand into her, “Only the pain. I remember there was a battle. I looked out onto the rolling green hills and saw as they approached. They had horses and men in silver armour and hundreds of archers.” Jakob winced as the memories pooled into his mind and consumed him. “I didn’t have time to get my own armour on, they were already breaching the town gate. So I ran out there with my bow and charged. I barely got to the town’s edge before an arrow struck me in the chest.” He pointed to his birthmark, touching it and recoiling as though it burned his skin. He shook his head gently, stroking Sofia’s soft hair. “That is all I remember. It was just a burning pain in my chest, and then blackness. The next thing I remember, I was six years old, with this birthmark seared into my chest exactly where the arrow shot me.”
The fire crackled and spit loudly, flicking red hot embers and filling the room with a warm amber glow. Sofia stood up and put another log onto the fire. She could feel Jakob’s eyes on her silhouette as she moved across the room. She stood in front of the fire, lingering an extra moment, lost in her own thoughts.
“I don’t have a birthmark,” She spoke to the fire, keeping her eyes locked on the bright flames.
Jakob breathed deeply, and sank deeper into the rich velvety blankets on the bed. “Let me look for you,” He whispered, his voice breathy. He reached out his arms toward Sofia. She turned to face him — his perfect face — smiling at her from the bed. She glided over and crawled under the blankets to be close to him again.
“You’ve already seen every inch of me,” She joked, pressing herself gently towards him.
“It’s good to be thorough…” Jakob wrapped both arms around her small framed and kissed her like the world depended on it.
The sweet sound of the red canary chiming in from the open window gently awoke Sofia. Jakob was still sound asleep next to her, his broad chest with the pale birthmark slowly rising and falling in perfect even time. Sofia’s eyes adjusted to the sunlight streaming in from the window, bathing the whole room in bright yellow light. She peeled herself away from the bed, instantly missing Jakob’s sweet smell. Mandarins and elderflower. He always smelled of mandarins and elderflower. Sofia gathered her garments from the various parts of the room, and dressed. Her crisp blue dress was wrinkled, even a button down the front was missing. It brought a smile to her face thinking of Jakob’s hands fumbling with the button before giving up and ripping it clean off. Sofia shut the window, breezed by Jakob’s sleeping body to kiss him on the forehead, grabbed her linen apron from the chair near the fire, and left.
She hurried down the hall, brushing her fingers against the cool, bumpy surface of the castle’s stone walls, following the smell and sound of the only place that could be awake at such an hour: the kitchen. The sweet smell of oatmeal with cinnamon and apples guided Sofia, inviting her into the bustling scene. Five other girls were already hard at work preparing breakfast in the perfectly organized chaos of the kitchen. Sofia reached into her apron pocket and retrieved her small bonnet, which she used to pull her loose auburn locks away from her face.
“What can I do?” She asked, as her hands already found busy work to do.
“Run out to the garden and gather the herbs for the breakfast pies,” She heard someone shout back, “And quickly! We’re running behind this morning.”
Sofia rushed out of the kitchen, nearly running, and headed for the gardens.
The gardens were Sofia’s favourite place on the castle grounds. She would often drift through them, stopping to smell everything, touch the plants and admire the life that came in all forms. The gardens were visible from Jakob’s window, and she would stare out to them on the sleepless nights, or early mornings before work began. Sofia walked through rows of tomato, radish, squash, and peas before finding the small herb patch. Her hands worked quickly to collect what she needed, moving expertly over the plants to carefully pick away at them without harming anything else. As she gazed down at her own hands, her mind wandered to thoughts of Jakob. Perhaps he could see her now in the garden if he woke. A smile crept up on her lips, and at the same time, something moved at her feet. Disguised in the plants, and concealed by the sounds of the wind rustling around her, Sofia didn’t notice as a snake approached her in the gardens. Before she could move away, the snake sank its two sharp fangs deeply into Sofia’s bony ankle, releasing a poison that was now coursing through Sofia’s veins. The sensation of burning painted itself up her leg and quickly rose into her chest. Sofia dropped her basket of herbs, clutching at her chest as it filled with fire. She fell to her knees, gasping for air, watching as the snake slithered calmly away, into the gardens, and out of sight. Then, the darkness came. Surrounding her, growing darker until Sofia sank into the ground, enveloped in blackness, and drew her last desperate breath.
Across an ocean, at that exact moment, a baby was born. In a dark room surrounded by loved ones, it entered the world and drew its first breath.
“It’s a girl!” Someone exclaimed, as they wrapped the baby in a warm blanket, wiping it clean. The baby was handed over to her mother, who hugged her tightly, stroking the tiny head. She examined the baby, counting all ten fingers and all ten toes. As she held her daughter’s little foot, she noticed something on her ankle.
“She has a birthmark,” The mother whispered, staring at the two small brown dots that decorated the space where her tiny foot met her tiny leg, “I wonder what her story is.”
And she gently kissed the two little spots on her daughter’s ankle.
Hmm, how interesting and how different from the first thing of yours I read ... this one so romanticized, almost like a companion to a Cinderella story. (So much so that I thought at one point your intent was parody.) That was a fun twist at the end. Looking forward to more ...