Chapter Text
Ardua Hall was a fortress. Despite it not being the grandest building, its presence demanded respect, even from the Eyes. Becka knew to be grateful for it. Being just for the Aunts, the hall was the only place in Gilead where men were banned from entry, and the one place where Aunt Lydia herself promised Becka that her father could never reach her.
But through all her gratitude a sense of loneliness enveloped her. All of the other Aunts were older, the youngest besides her still being four or five years her senior. In her lonesome she often thought about her school friends and what they might be doing. She remembered Shunamite being very excited to marry and although Becka could never comprehend it, she always tried to smile encouragingly when her friend would bring it up. Hulda was more nervous about it all - she would observe as Shunamite gossiped with the other girls about commanders and guardians whilst never saying much herself. Becka hoped that whoever she was given to was at least half decent. Maybe a young commander who hasn’t let the power get to his head.
She missed all the girls. Of course she did, they each contributed a special part in her life.
But, admittedly, she missed Agnes the most.
Agnes who’d defend her when other girls made fun of her low rank. Agnes who’d stand next to her when they looked at the poor souls on The Wall because she knew Becka got upset looking at them. Agnes who could simply link their pinkies together and make Becka feel like a flower bathed in sunlight.
Every so often Becka would catch herself thinking about Agnes for too long and shake her head, trying to release the thoughts from her mind.
‘Stop it,’ she would mutter to herself, ‘She’s not thinking about you back, why would she.’
And between these mutterings, she desperately tried not to remember her conversation with Aunt Lydia from a couple of months ago.
—
‘You have made good advancement in your writing so far.’
‘Thank you, Aunt Lydia, I’ve been enjoying learning,’ replied Becka with a respectful nod.
She handed Becka a small stack of papers saying, ‘Please copy up these transcripts as well, I need to add them to folders in the library.’
‘Of course, I’ll start now.’
‘Thank you,’ Aunt Lydia said with a slight nod, and before she turned to leave added, ‘Under His Eye.’
Suddenly seeing an opportunity and not wanting to waste it, Becka carefully stepped forward. ‘Aunt Lydia.’ Her voice caught in her throat with nerves and she tried to cough it away.
Thankfully, Aunt Lydia turned back. ‘Yes, child?’
Becka stared at her for a moment and started wishing she’d articulated what she wanted to ask before speaking. When she finally found her voice again she spoke as casually as possible, ‘Can I ask about the engagements of my ex-classmates?’
With an almost knowing smile Aunt Lydia replied, ‘Ah, you’d like to hear about Miss Mackenzie I presume?’
Taken aback, Becka faltered for a moment. ‘Uh - well no, well yes but I meant all -‘
‘It’s alright, I know you were good friends.’
Becka was confused about why Aunt Lydia knew about their friendship and allowed it. Close friendship was not permitted in Gilead. She assumed Aunt Lydia took pity on her because of her father and thought she could do with one.
Continuing, she said, ‘I really can’t say too much, you understand, but Miss Mackenzie is set to marry a top Commander. She’ll be a good wife, I’m sure.’
There was ringing in her ears. Becka could’ve sworn that was the moment her heart stopped beating.
Control yourself. Control yourself control youself control yourself.
They were the only two words circling her mind as she swallowed down whatever reaction was bubbling under the surface. She contorted her lower face into some semblance of a smile and forced her throat to speak, ‘Praise be!’
‘Indeed,’ Aunt Lydia said before exiting the room.
As soon as she left Becka’s head started spinning and she grabbed a hold of the table she was stood by. Carefully lowering herself to the floor, she hugged her legs close to her body and froze. She knew it would happen, she wasn’t stupid. The whole reason she asked Aunt Lydia was because she knew it had to have happened.
After her initial shock, she tried to reason it out.
For Agnes it’s probably good, right? The alternative would’ve been a low ranking man or god forbid being one of those handmaids. At least she can try and have a child like she always wanted. It was probably the best thing for her.
But how could the best thing for her be marrying a man probably twice her age who she doesn’t even know? How could that possibly be right - Becka agonised.
A commander, she thought. Please. What would a commander know about Agnes. About how she needs earmuffs in the winter but only when she stands still because when she walks she doesn’t notice the cold on her ears. About how she enjoys a walk in the gardens when she gets upset, but a strong hug to calm her when she gets angry. A stupid commander wouldn’t notice things like that.
Sat on the floor, Becka’s thoughts carried her away.
And what would a commander know about how to make her laugh? Or how to comfort her? Or how to do just about anything with her? Becka knew about all these things already, she’d treat Agnes in the way she deserves. The man probably doesn’t know her favourite flower. If she was marrying Agnes, she’d personally make her bouquets, filling them with calla lilies and -
Becka’s thoughts stopped as quickly as they began. She hit her head with her palm multiple times to get the thought out of her mind. ‘Don’t be so stupid,’ she spoke to herself whilst she was standing up. She knew better than to trap herself in deluded fantasies.
She picked up the transcripts that Aunt Lydia gave her and forced herself into the library.
—
From that point on, Becka decided not to think about Agnes.
Months passed since that conversation and she assumed that Agnes had married whichever commander Aunt Lydia had mentioned.
She didn’t think about her. She didn’t picture his house, her in his bed, her scent lingering around his home, their dinners together as a married couple, their conversations…. whether Agnes ever thought of her. No, it barely crossed her mind.
Slowly, she became accustomed to Ardua Hall. It was mostly the same every day: reading, copying transcripts, reading more, eating, sleeping. But it was better than anything else she might have been doing so she accepted it gracefully.
She didn’t think about Agnes.
—
One particular day Becka was feeling rougher than usual. Aunt Vidala spent the whole day reprimanding her because she inaccurately copied up a verse from the Bible. As if Gilead cared what was actually in the Bible.
She finally got a moment to herself in the evening which she used to wander the halls. On her passage she heard a crinkling noise from one of the rooms. Wanting to see who was writing so late, she peered inside.
Becka was a young woman, in a building that she hadn’t left in ages, placed by God in a closed off society where she could do nothing but obediently carry out her duties.
But the moment she entered the room she felt the axis of the planet shift to align with the moon and stars.
‘Agnes,’ she breathed.
She refused to believe it. Her feet remained planted to the floor whilst her mind ascended out of her body trying to conceptualise what was happening. She must be dreaming. Either that or experiencing some dazed hallucination after Aunt Vidala’s constant shouting in her ear.
This couldn’t be real. Becka tried to shake her head to snap out of whatever was happening but it didn’t work.
‘Hey Becka,’ Agnes said softly with a gentle smile gracing her face.
Becka still couldn’t move. Agnes’ voice brought her back to reality, it always did, but now she was trying to imagine what happened for Agnes to be here at the Hall. Is she here permanently? Did she sneak in? What happened with the commander?
Her chain of thought was broken again by Agnes’ playful voice, ‘What, you’re not happy to see me?’
That’s what fully brought Becka back down to Earth.
She allowed herself to exhale and ran over to embrace Agnes. She hoped the strength of her hug translated all her emotions after being separated for what felt like a lifetime.
Becka released her but they kept hold of each other’s arms to steady themselves.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked smiling, but also scanning Agnes’ face for any sign of hurt upon her.
‘I told Aunt Lydia I wanted to be an Aunt.’
‘What?’ Becka responded, her heart still hammering. ‘What about the commander, what about — ‘
‘I couldn’t marry him, I don’t want to marry anyone.’
It was in Becka’s nature to fear the worst, especially when Agnes was involved. ‘Did he do something to you?’ she asked lowering her voice.
Agnes gently squeezed her arm and reassured her, ‘No, nothing like that. But I’ve heard stories about his past wives, I knew it would only be a matter of time.’
For the second time, Becka hugged her, grateful that Agnes had escaped from marriage like she did. She couldn’t care less that such proximity was frowned upon by Gilead.
When they finally let go of each other, Becka couldn’t estimate how long they were embracing, Agnes walked back over to the desk where several books lay.
‘So do you really know how to read?’ she asked, intrigued.
Becka smiled at her fascination, she remembered being as amazed herself looking at all the books. ‘Yeah, it was hard to learn though.’
Just then, Aunt Lydia entered. ‘Blessed be the fruit.’
Both girls slightly separated and straightened their posture at her arrival, simultaneously saying, ‘May the Lord open’
‘I see you girls have already found each other.’
‘Becka was telling me how she’s learnt to read,’ Agnes said excitedly.
‘Yes, one of the beauties of being an Aunt. Of course, you’ll need to go through your trial period before you begin to learn. We must see if your mind is strong enough to be an Aunt. If you are successful you shall start reading and writing lessons straight away, Becka here will be teaching you.’
Becka couldn’t control her face lighting up hearing that, the opportunity to spend more time with Agnes is one she’d never hesitate to take.
They both replied, ‘Yes, Aunt Lydia.’
‘Becka, I’ll leave it to you to see that Agnes is well introduced to Ardua Hall. Remember, I will be evaluating you both during this time.’ Before even waiting for a response she closed the conversation saying ‘Under His eye’, and turned to leave.
Agnes turned to Becka with her eyes shining, ‘You can write too?’
Becka felt her face flush at the attention and before she could respond, Agnes had handed her a piece of paper. ‘Write something for me.’
She chuckled and looked away. She didn’t know if it was in embarrassment, in nervousness - Agnes had a way of making her feel emotions she could never quite name.
After reconnecting their gaze for a moment, Becka took a deep breathe and uncapped a pen to start writing on the small piece of paper.
When she finished, she re-capped the pen and gave the paper back to Agnes, who had been watching her write in awe.
‘Well, what does it say!’ she was whispering now, as if they were telling secrets.
Returning the whisper, Becka grinned, ‘You’ll find out when you pass the trial and you learn how to read.’
‘What, Becka! Please tell me,’ Agnes said with exaggerated disappointment.
Becka would be lying if she said the puppy eyes didn’t make her knees weak, but she knew she had to stay strong. She put her index finger to her lips and made a shushing sound. ‘You’ll find out in time.’
She had no idea what embolded her but she’s glad that something did.
Agnes accepted her words and folded the little piece of paper to put it in her pocket.
So maybe Becka wasn’t brave enough to say anything yet. But a small part of her heart soared knowing that Agnes was carrying around a piece of paper that had enscribed on it with her handwriting:
I love you