osprey_archer | Fic: Freedom for Felicity, Chapter 5

Title: Freedom for Felicity
Fandom: American Girl - Felicity
Rating: G
Pairings: Next chapter, all will sort itself out!
Warnings: Abuse of Aesop's fables. A tragic lack of Elizabeth.

A wave of cold swept over Felicity. Before she knew what she was doing, she had run out the front door and grasped Patriot’s reins, gentling the frightened horse with a hand against his neck. “Shh, shh,” she soothed, stroking his mane as she looked hopefully toward the mill path.

But Polly did not emerge from the trees, shaken but unscathed. Patriot must have thrown her. She might be hurt – she might be –

“Felicity?” Elizabeth said, and Felicity saw that Elizabeth and Ben stood a few feet away, looking as uncertain and frightened as she felt.

Felicity set her chin. “Patriot must have thrown Polly,” she said. “Elizabeth, take him to the stables, then go in the house and ready everything needful in case she’s hurt.” Elizabeth nodded and moved alongside Patriot, stroking his neck as Felicity had done, and offering him a lump of sugar she’d snagged from the coffee set. Clever Elizabeth!

Felicity began to march across the yard, her skirts bunched up in her fists to free her strides. “Ben, come with me. If she’s hurt, I won’t be able to carry her.”

“Shouldn’t we get the horses?” Ben asked, loping to catch up with her. His cloak flapped behind him.

Felicity shook her head. “The mill trail’s too treacherous when it’s wet. We’ll be faster on our feet. Oh, Polly!” How could Felicity have even thought about taking the mill trail when it looked like rain?

“Are you sure Polly took the mill trail?” Ben asked.

“Yes,” said Felicity. “It’s her favorite path, the path we meant to take for our ride, and we rarely – ”

Felicity stopped. She rarely rode on the mill trail now, because she and Ben had taken so many happy rides down the wooded paths, stopping at the end for picnics at the mill. Polly had ridden with them, an eight-year-old chaperone, still happy on her little pony then, her copper hair shining in the sun.

Felicity swallowed. “Polly is not one for changing her mind.”

The wooded path was not inviting now, dark and wet as it was, with its copious stones slippery underfoot. Thunder grumbled above them, and rain dripped on their heads. The rain made the only sound in the forest. It was only that the birds and squirrels were sheltering from the rain, Felicity told herself, but still the silence seemed eerie. Felicity shivered.

“Take my cloak,” Ben said.

“I’m not cold,” Felicity protested.

“You’ll catch cold in that thin dress,” he insisted. She let him drape the warm wool cloak around her shoulders, and though she was not cold, she drew comfort from that kindness.

“Polly!” she shouted.

“Polly!” Ben called, also. But the forest seemed to eat their shouts.

Felicity’s legs almost ached with the effort of walking slowly. She wanted to badly to run and find her little sister! But it would do no good to anyone if she fell and hurt herself. Patience, she reminded herself, but despite all her reminders she found her pace picking up.

She slipped on a smooth rock. Ben caught her, a hand on her waist. “Careful,” he said.

She took a deep breath. “Polly! Where are you?”

But there was no answer. They walked on. Felicity held out her hand and Ben took it, squeezing her hand with the three fingers that frostbite left him.

A raindrop splashed on Felicity’s nose. The silence pressed down on them. The path descended into a mud wallow. Felicity gritted her teeth and strode into it, only to slip on the mud in her haste. If she had not been holding Ben’s hand, she would have fallen headfirst into the mire.

He helped her to her feet, and they picked their way to the steady ground again. Felicity’s shoes squished with mud with each step, slowing her further. She could have cried with impatience. “Do you know the story of the tortoise and the hare?” she asked.

It sounded nonsensical as soon as she said it, but Ben knew what she meant. “‘Slow and steady wins the race,’” he quoted.

“Dear old Aesop,” said Felicity. “A tale for every occasion.” She remembered her mother telling her the fables when she was a little girl, and telling them to Polly herself as they sheltered under a willow waiting for a storm to pass on a ride. “Polly!” she shouted. The sound of raindrops mocked back at her. “Polly!”

“Lissie?” came a little voice.

“Polly!” Felicity shouted, and only Ben’s hand in hers stopped her from charging forward on the slippery path. “Polly, where are you?” she called.

“I’ve got back – back onto the path now,” Polly said, her voice beginning to tremble at the end. “Lissie? Lissie, are you still there?”

Felicity began to walk again, her fists clenched in her effort against running. “Yes, I’m here. I’m coming,” she said. “We’re coming, Polly, don’t worry.”

Then she rounded the bend, and her sister lay on the path ahead of her. Felicity gasped, and almost began to run despite herself, but Ben’s hand tightened on hers. “Slow and steady now,” he said softly, and she forced herself to walk slowly down the last length of the treacherous path to Polly.

Polly had leaves in her hair and mud slicked down the front of the dress. A great rip rent her red riding cloak, and tear tracks marked in the mud on her face. Felicity had never been so happy to see anyone.

“Where are you hurt, Polly love?” she asked, kneeling beside Polly on the muddy path. She wrapped Ben’s cloak around her little sister.

“My ankle – I twisted my ankle,” Polly said. “And I rolled down the hill after I fell off Patriot, because I was r-riding him to fast, and he s-slipped, and – ” Polly began to sob. Felicity held her sister close, rocking her gently. “Is Patriot all right?” Polly whispered. “Lissie, is he hurt?”

Felicity’s heart melted. “No, Polly, he’s fine,” she said. “He ran right back to our house to get help, and Elizabeth feeding him a nice bucket of oats right now, I’m sure.” She stroked Polly’s hair, gentling her as she had gentled Patriot earlier. “Ben – ”

He was beside her in a moment. “Polly, I’m going to carry you back,” he said.

“All right,” said Polly, and raised her arms to make it easier. He lifted her into his arms, and they began the slow trek back along the slippery path.