The Offering

Chapter Ten - Daella

"Yes chosen, we move as one, step and turn, step and turn, floating like a leaf in the breeze, bending like a stalk of grass, gentle and yet firm." The Mistress's voice can be heard over the music as we stand in the small ball room where we practiced our dancing.

The entire notion of it was ridiculous, why did they need so many different dances? Why did so much of their music have to sound the same that it is almost impossible to tell one dance from the other?

"You look like you want to hit someone." Rue whispers as she steps in time to the music, her arms held in place like the others.

"I'm supposed to use my words." I mutter, remembering my mother's advice. I hold back my thoughts of my family, now isn't the right time.

"And what words would those be?" I hear the Mistress behind me and hold still.

"Nothing Mistress." I reply, knowing it was best to keep my mouth shut. She walks around to face me, the stick of correction in her hand. Mother had never used a stick, or her hands, or anything to punish us, or correct us as Mistress said. She had always used her words, to teach us, to guide us.

"Exactly Daella, because we should not be speaking, we should be dancing, our imaginary partners taking the lead as we step and float and move around them with grace. Now, continue." She orders and I fall into step with the other's.

I knew the steps, the moves, but my body refused to follow every form and move like a flower or a blade of grass. I knew it was my being stubborn, but I couldn't help it. This class, out of all of our classes was the one I hated the most because I knew dancing shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't be orchestrated, and taught step by step, move by move, it is something that should be felt and expressed with music and people.

Dancing reminded me more than anything of how different I was to the fae.

I feel the sharp sting as the whack of the stick hits my lower back.

"You are too stiff!" She snaps.

Another step, another turn. Whack! "Your arms should bend at the elbow, not look like two dead sticks!"

More steps, more turns. Whack! "Useless, try again!"

Whack! "No stupid child, again!"

Whack! "How many times do I have to tell you idiot girl?! Again!"

"You are to present yourselves as flowers in a garden, standing with your blooming petals for all to see." The Mistress voice rings in my head like an echo over and over as she walks around the room, altering and correcting.

"Utterly inferior Daella, your form is weak, your arms too wide, see the other girls, how they stand." She hisses with a snap to the back of my arm. I move as she pokes and prods my body trying to imitate the other girls all while hating myself a little more.

We have been correcting our dance forms for what feels like an eternity but would only be a couple of hours. My flesh stings where the Mistress has beaten me with her stick, always reprimanding me, correcting me.

Her stick wasn't correcting us, it was beating us into submission, making us conform to their standards.

The other chosen, even that word, the word I hated now propped up in my head, the other girls were all adapting quickly, their bodies and minds submitting to all of our lessons without any questions or doubt.

"No!" Mistress snaps, her stick stinging my back as I bite back my wince of pain. "No, no, no, you are simply not trying hard enough Daella, I know you are capable of perfecting these positions but you simply will not try."

"I am trying Mistress, only my weak human body was not designed to move like the fae!" I snap back, fists at my side my temper finally reaching its limit. I hear the united gasp as the other girls all stop and look at me. No one ever spoke back to the Mistress.

The Mistress looks at me, she smiles, her eyes hard.

"Oh Daella, your weak human body is not the problem here child," She starts walking around me slowly, the taps of her shoes on the polished floor is the only noise. "It is your weak, rebellious, foolish human mind that is holding you back and making this process more difficult." She stops in front of me again, the same smile, knowing, intimidating. "But your weak human mind and it's foolish hopes will not change anything child, you are here, you need to let go of your old life and your old ways and learn our ways, the right ways of being." She says quietly, So," She smiles, her voice brightening. "Let us begin again, and this time, we will all try our best."

I do my best to imitate the others, avoiding the Mistress wrath for the rest of the class if only to have a break from her and that bloody stick of hers.

"Daella, stay a moment." The Mistress calls out as I walks beside Rue eager to leave this room and the hours I had just spent in it far behind.

Rue gives me a worried look before smiling and following the other girls out.

I stop and take a deep breath before turning around to face her, she smiles at me, a tight studying smile as she holds onto her stick, never far from her grasp.

"I see you Daella, I see how you stand out from the other girls, and that is not a good thing." She begins, her voice is different from the usual sound, it is quiet and dark, like a threat or a warning. "By refusing to learn our ways you are breaking the rules set out in the treaty. The treaty that was signed by King Harwyn and the leaders of the human world. I know you are not as stupid as you appear child, I know you are more than capable of following along with the other chosen, and yet, you refuse to do so, you test my own patience." My temper flares within me, wanting to speak up for myself, defend myself, to say something, but I keep it held back, not so stupid I would let it out right now.

"You are one of the chosen girl, you have been told you are valuable to our people and the King himself, as such it is for me to warn you. There are dangerous consequences for those that do not follow the rules stipulated within the treaty. Stop being the useless human girl you were bought here as or even I will not be able to spare you from what awaits you." With that, she steps around me and walks out.

I feel like my blood is boiling inside me, writhing and wriggling to get out, to scream and to run. She had said she was warning me, like she was trying to help me. I wanted to scream and laugh at the idea that anyone here would ever genuinely want or try to help me.

I didn't care about the treaty, I didn't care about her threats.

This is not my home, it will never be my home and no amount of threatening consequences will change that.