Of Bread and Pointed Ears

Hey all! Today's blog post is a short scene of the main characters at thirteen years old, when they were being raised by a human adoptive mother.

Of Bread and Pointed Ears

“Bye, Mom!” Thirteen-year-old Éadra called as she left for the public bakery to bake the dough she'd spent all morning preparing.

“I wish you hadn't taken to calling her that,” her twin Learé muttered to her. “She isn't really our mother.”

“I know,” Éadra replied, “but it makes her feel good. Besides, she may not be our birth mother, but she still takes care of us as if she were. I miss Mother just as much as you do—I dream about her almost every night. But I know she wouldn't want us disrespecting the woman who's been raising us since—you know.”

“Yes,” said Learé. “But does respecting Joan mean letting her replace Mom?”

Éadra shook her head. “I haven't forgotten her.”

“Sometimes you act like it,” her twin replied.

Éadra said nothing. She just stared down at he covered bowl of bread dough in her hands. “I wish we didn't have to use the public oven today,” she finally commented. “I think that baker's been cheating us. It seems like the dough never makes quite as much bread as it should.”

“I know he cheats us, and everyone else, too,” said Learé. “Joshua said he snuck in the back of the shop once and saw one of the apprentices open a trap door behind the oven and steal a little of the dough from everyone's loaves and take it back to the baker. He must use it to make some of the loaves he sells, or something.”

“The sneak!” said Éadra. “Why didn't Joshua tell anyone?”

“Who would he tell? The baker is just about everyone's landlord here. He's required by law to bake our bread for a small fee when we bring it, but there's no one to make sure he does it honestly.”

“Well, I still think something should be done about it,” said Éadra, “if only I could figure out what.”

“Hey, look, it's the pixie-eared freaks!” a girl's voice called out as the twins approached the oven.

“Here we go again,” muttered Éadra. “Why do they feel the need to do this?”

“Just ignore them,” said Learé. “They only wish they had ears like ours.”

Éadra raised a hand to her head, feeling to make sure her hair was still covering the points of her ears. Not that it mattered; just about everyone in town knew the twins were “different.” And sure enough, soon nearly everyone around them was pointing, staring, or making fun. It didn't help when a small breeze blew back the twins' hair and revealed their ears for all to see. Éadra blushed and picked up the pace, trying to escape the mocking.

Bad idea. She tripped, and her bowl of dough went flying. A sandy-haired girl caught the bowl, and when Éadra reached to take it from her, she pulled away.

“I don't think so,” said the girl. “What does a pixie need with bread? You can just go eat flowers or something.” She skipped off with the dough.

“Hey, bring that back here!” shouted Learé, running after her. Before Éadra could stop her sister, Learé had tackled the other girl to the ground. She stole back the dough and dashed off, leaving Éadra running to catch up.

 When they got home later, they told Joan about the whole incident. She chastised Learé a little for being rough with the other girl but told them they handled the situation well overall. And once they had left, she cried for her daughters and wished for a world where humans and elves got along in peace.