Work Text:
Thomasin awoke in her bed. The twins were, mercifully, still sleeping quietly. Caleb too was abed. She did not begrudge her brother his rest. Before dawn, she'd caught him tacking up Burt to go hunting, so he could feed the family and spare her from being sent off to servitude. She'd stopped him, and convinced him it was foolhardy to ride into the woods at night. He'd tried to hide it, but she heard him weeping when they returned to their beds.
Thomasin dressed and walked downstairs. She found her mother and father sitting at the table. “Good morning Father, good morning Mother.”
As she made for the door her father spake: “Thomasin, bide a time.”
“The goats must needs be milked, Father.”
“Later. I must speak with thee.” Her father always sounded pained, like a vine was twisted around his throat, but now he was much worse. The look in his eyes was the same as when he returned from his last failed search for baby Samuel.
Her mother's eyes were just cold.
“Thomasin, thou art my eldest daughter, and I love thee dearly. But thou art a woman grown. 'Tis past time thou went out to serve others.”
She had heard her parents speak of this, but never thought it would truly happen. She had hoped that, as with all hard decisions, her father would forever put it off until a tomorrow that never came.
“Father, please, do not send me away...”
“It grieveth me sore, my daughter, and I know though art afrighted, but...”
“'Tis for thy own good, we cannot feed an idler's mouth," her mother interrupted.
“Kate!”
“Now, if we had aught to sell for food...”
Thomasin's stomach dropped.
“Mother, please," she begged. "I did not lose thy father's chalice!”
“Oh? Then where hast thou taken it?”
“Please! I swear to thee I have not touched it, do not send me away!” She felt her cheeks warming with tears
Her mother scoffed.
“She swore she haven't touched it, Katherine. Let us not quarrel in parting.”
“Father, please, I would not leave this house!”
“I am sorry, child, the contract of indenturement has already been signed, thou must leave today.”
“...already?” Thomasin was taken aback. “Didst thou ride to the village overnight?”
“Nay. By providence I met five godly young men, newly arrived from the old country, in need of a servant. Thy mother and I bargained with them and agreed on a fair price for thy services.”
“Enough to see us through the winter. Finally thou hast contributed something to this family,” her mother sneered.
When Thomasin stepped outside the house, and saw the five comely young men waiting by a cart, it finally hit her that this was truly happening. She started sobbing. Once again her life was upturned by her parents, and she would be driven from everything comforting and familiar to her.
First her father had taken the family from England. Then they were banished from the village. And now?
Her mother had sold her to Stray-Not-From-The-Straight-And-Narrow-Path-But-Walk-In-The-One-Direction-God-Hath-In-His-Mercy-Lain-Out-To-Save-Thee-From-Thy-Justly-Merited-Damnation.