To Lay At God's Feet

(C) Intelligent Studios and Nintendo

Dedicated to Vestrwald, whose offhanded comment opened a world for me.

-0-

01. Tin

"Looks like we've got a new bunch."

Natalie raised her head from her mending at her brother's voice, peering out the dusty window that never seemed to want to get clean and watched the new line of workers mill past their row house. They weren't dragging their feet from the weight of chains and they held their heads up high, but she still asked, "Do you think these ones are prisoners, Danny?"

His gaze flickered towards her from where he stood, just on the other side of the window. They were 'Bernese twins', born ten months apart, and although she was the elder he looked it far more than she ever could. With his smoke-worn voice and the frown lines gathering at the corners of his eyes and his mouth, he resembled their papa so strongly that some mornings the fear she felt for his life coiled tightly inside her belly and wouldn't loosen until he dragged himself home in the evening. It wasn't an uncommon fear here at the Uchitel Colliery, not at all, so she kept it to herself and didn't burden her brother with her worries, just as she knew he kept his concerns about taking care of the both of them deep inside himself.

"Prisoners don't look like that. Look at them." Bitterness seeped into his words. "They look proud. They look like they think they can crack the mountain open and all the gold's gonna pour right out." With a grunt of annoyance, he dug into the pocket of his worn pants for the tin box that held his cigarettes.

"I keep telling you to do that outside," Natalie huffed. "I can't exactly get away from you and that stink."

She was sorry she said those words as soon as they passed her lips. Daniel wouldn't even look at her as he walked out of their home, the dull tread of his worn boots the exact sound of the fear that thudded inside of her during sleepless nights. Ever since Papa's death from the mine explosion at the Umin Ridge Colliery eight years ago, they had been each other's only family. Daniel had already been a veteran of mine work at that time, as fourteen-year-old boy-men were never in short supply at any of Bern's mines, and she had already almost lost him a few times since then. Illnesses, gas explosions, mine collapses...these too were never in short supply, either.

As she always did whenever she remembered just how easily their lives could end, Natalie pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus on something else. It was a holy day in honor of Saint Elimine, and that was the only reason her brother had been home before dusk. The afternoon sun burned through the window, lighting up their one-room hovel--one of the nicer homes in the mining village, one of several unnamed shantytowns dotting the base of Mount Uchitel. She had grown to like their home, though the constant dust drifting from the mountain never seemed to go away no matter how much time she spent doing laundry and wiping down the few pieces of furniture they had managed to squirrel away for themselves. Two beds, the frames worm-eaten and only getting creakier with each passing year, had been shoved into one corner, separated by a drawer that held all the clothes they owned in the world--less than ten outfits between the both of them, but she was handy with a needle and soon she was hoping to buy some more sturdy cloths before winter blanketed the mountain. The door was before their beds; the other side of the room was crowded with an honest-to-God stone and iron stove which burned through firewood like her brother did his breakfast and dinner, coughing up smoke that didn't help her cleaning any since the pipe began to rust from the rains last spring, and a table with three mismatched chairs. Sometimes her brother liked to invite one of the other workers home for a good meal, which she never complained about even though they didn't really have any food to spare.

This was Natalie's world. This was her world.

She shook her head at her growing self-pity and made to finish her mending before she had to begin dinner. Her brother would be sure to make it back by then, him and his bottomless stomach; she laughed at the thought, hands shaking enough to ruin her perfect stitches. It didn't matter, though, as the coarse, durable cloth she was working with was one of Daniel's shirts--he'd find some other way to ruin it, always coming home with rips and tears and a sheepish expression that exasperated her every time, as if he were a little boy on the verge of babbling explanations and apologies and not a grown man of twenty-two who worked every day in the mines until his fingers oozed blood and his light brown hair was dark with mountain dust filled with more precious metals than he seemed to be digging out of the mine shafts. No matter how much he was grinding out his life in those dark pits, no matter how much more worn down he looked to her at the end of each day, that he could still look young, that he had any innocence left at all despite all the horrible things she had heard going down in the village, made her want to work even harder to make sure her younger brother could always hold on to that last scrap of purity.

If only it weren't for her leg, she thought, she always thought. If she was healthier she could've been married by now, which would ease her brother's burden enough that he could have his own life, fulfill his own dreams. She didn't know what those were, but then again she didn't have many dreams herself; what filled her mind during the inescapable silence between chores and her brother's appearances were as hazy and forgettable as the sun on overcast days.

It was probably all right like that. If she had a dream, she wouldn't be any happier. With her body the way it was, how was she supposed to do anything about it?

By the time she finished her work, the light that had formerly poured into her home was now at a trickle. After she carefully bundled up her needle and thread within the mended shirt, she reached out with her left hand to grip the back of her chair--the only chair they owned with a proper back, something Daniel had been so proud to present to her on her nineteenth birthday, her best birthday--before putting her weight on her hand to rise to her feet. Walking wasn't too bad for her most of the time, but it always was a pain for her to get up and sit down because of the way her right foot and leg were. She called it a childhood illness, but the illness had never ended; her foot was gnarled, the toes permanently curled inward, and her ankle was weak and didn't allow her to move her foot around like normal people's could. Her papa had worked for years to scrape up enough money to get it fixed, but the doctor hadn't been good and made her foot even worse, scarring it for life when he'd tried to flatten it out with a large, sharp stone and a knife to pry out her toes. Her right leg was also a little shorter than her perfect left leg, but she'd take limping any day over the mess that was her foot. Even now, as she made her way from the chair to her bed, she could feel the dull ache of her ankle, complaining piteously like a child ready to start bawling if it wasn't attended to fast enough. This wasn't one of her better days, not when she was collapsing onto her bed with a small cry of relief just from the effort of crossing the room, but she made to ignore the pain as she unwrapped her needle and roll of thread from the shirt, putting her things on top of the drawers and placing her brother's shirt in his drawer, the one on the bottom. Resisting the urge to just lay back on her bed, she pushed herself up with a groan and headed to the stove.

By the time she heard her brother stomping his feet outside the door, she was stirring at dinner, making sure it didn't stick to the edges of the pan. Rabbit meat, green sprouts, and some chopped onion she had been using for near about a week now--this was the dinner they had during the warm months. She was just scooping out the last clinging bits onto Daniel's plate (he always did like the burnt pieces for their crunchiness) when he entered their home. "Smells good, Sis!" he announced as he pried off his worn deerhide boots, his voice a little too loud to be sincere. Her suspicions were confirmed when he stepped up to the table while she was sitting down and she caught the eye-watering stench of cigarette smoke and sour mash, to which she only rolled her eyes.

"It's a holy day and you're drinking?"

Her brother smiled lazily, just deep enough in his cups to be incorrigible. "I was drinking to the good saint's health."

She had to bite down on the obvious retort, shaking her head as Daniel gracefully stumbled into his seat. "You're terrible," she said, unable to hide her smile.

"No, but seriously," he started, pausing to shove a forkful of food into his mouth. After he swallowed, he began waving his fork like he always did when he had something he wanted to say and wanted everyone else to know it, too. "I went down to get a closer look at the new guys. You know how they always find their way to Mackson's. And you have to drink if you want to stay, and I wanted to stay." He was giving her that look, that soulful look that was all but begging her to forgive him, even though he was his own man and could drink whenever he liked. Natalie knew better--her brother only liked a cup or two every once in a while, usually once or twice every six months. He had good discipline otherwise, and watching how some of the old miners took to drinking like it was their only reason for living made him shun it as much as possible.

He had to drink, though. It'd be impossible for any miner to stay away for good, not with the way their lives were. She understood that much.

"Were there any good ones?" she asked, concerned but trying to hide it. Daniel didn't seem to notice, steadily working through his meal as he was.

"There were--" he coughed, then swallowed. "The ones I saw don't look bad...can't count on them, though. Don't think they've ever worked at a real mine before. Maybe some quarry, bashing rocks all day. With work like that, it's no wonder we have so many bandits."

Neither of them spoke the sentence she was sure was running through his head, just like it was hers: That, and the fact that the local lords didn't care about anything other than their gold. Uchitel Colliery, like any other mine, used its own workers as guards whenever bandits came roving about. Daniel never had to go, seeing as he was too valuable in the mine shafts, but he did oversee who was going to do guard duty and was good at forming groups that made sure no bandit ever got past the worn gates. No one had chosen him for that job, he just picked it up on his own.

She thinned her lips. Her brother was always thinking about her. She didn't know what she would do without his kindness.

"I'm sure there's going to be someone you can count on," Natalie said softly, and after he shrugged there was silence between them for the rest of the meal.

-0-

Laundry day, laundry day.

Natalie dragged the half-filled sack of dirty clothes with the help of a thick length of rope slung over her shoulder. She never let it get full, mostly because the burlap sack was too large to be filled by their measly amount of clothes, though she wondered if it would be easier to pull if the bag was tight and oval, rather than lumpy and flat. Sometimes the back of her flat-heeled simple slippers, the only shoes she could wear without discomfort, hit the sack, though she had been doing this for so long that she rarely stumbled when it did happen.

The day was overcast, dampening what little cheerful mood could exist in the ramshackle row houses of the colliery shantytown. She barely twitched when she heard a yell from further down the row, then a hard slap and resulting cry. The yell had been male, and Daniel had long since gone to the mines; she could only imagine how much worse that hungover miner was going to make the rest of his family today on top of losing the day's wages. Natalie kept her head down as she walked, though the street was empty, her hands gripping the rope so tightly she knew she was going to find marks on them once she reached the river. The back of her heel hit the sack, but all she could was keep pulling forward with a resolution she knew was not uncommon in the mountain-bound village. Other sounds reached her through the thin, pine walls of the row houses, sounds of mothers yelling, children screaming, clattering iron pans, laughter, arguments--it all reached her as she dragged her laundry down the gray road, though nothing seemed as loud to her as her own breathing.

Uchitel River was close by. It came from the mountain, and it was one of the biggest sites when the '67 Gold Rush began. Someone found gold glittering in the river while they were taking a break from their journey, and the next thing anyone knew everyone was coming to one of the most inhospitable regions in south-eastern Bern and trying to make it rich. Nobody really did, other than the nobles of the area, but it was a hope and a dream that dug deep into the hearts of the men who came here and never really went away no matter how much they were proven wrong. When the rush died down in AS 971, the nobles brought criminals to horde what they could from the mountain, but recently would-be miners were appearing in droves again. Natalie had long since been here, carried on her papa's back during the beginning of the rush, and she figured she might be here until the day she died.

Most of the new miners were former soldiers. Daniel would tell her that there was something wrong with the king, and he'd laugh and say that they were better off here after all. She never said anything at those times, because she could see the weariness bearing down on him, carving lines under his eyes, and she knew neither of them wanted to broach the truth: that maybe it was no good being Bernese, that there was something wrong with their country and the nobles and the king most of all.

When she reached the river, she found a young girl there working at a grease-caked shirt with the last scrapings of soap. Natalie sat down a ways and made to start working on her brother's clothes first, since her own clothes didn't need half as much effort as his did and she was running out of soap too. The girl, who Natalie dimly recognized as being the daughter of one of the oldest full-time miners, glanced at her, then at the chunk of soap in her hand. With a smile, Natalie broke off a piece for the girl, sighing a bit to herself when the soap cracked off into more pieces. Fragments clung to her wet hands as she wiped off a couple of the bigger bits into the girl's hand. The girl smiled carefully at her, like she had a sore tooth, before she bent her head and got right back to work on her daddy's shirts. Natalie couldn't help but notice how the girl's dress hung loosely off her thin body--the poor thing probably really did have a sore tooth. She'd heard that at one of the other shantytowns at the mountain there was a priest, which was the best thing next to a doctor and probably even better than that after her own experience with one, but she couldn't imagine the girl's father would dare take a day off from work to take his daughter out to find him. Wages were as bad as they ever got, now that the miners had to work deep in the mountain to find even the smallest fraction of gold. With none of the towns reaching the impossible quotas the nobles had set for them, it was all anyone could do to live as well as they did.

The girl left first, soaking the front of her dress with the bundle of wet clothes she was carrying back, her thin body leaning over the bundle as her spindly, perfect legs took long strides back to the village. Once Natalie couldn't see the girl anymore over her shoulder, she carefully took off her shoes and placed them in the water, watching the clear water stream over her feet. It felt nicer on her left foot than her right, but it was just enough to know that her right foot still had feeling in it, no matter how ugly it looked.

After she was done scrubbing the clothes, she let her feet soak in the cool water until she could see the dull glow from the sun start to arch towards the west.

Laundry day, laundry day. What a nice day.

-0-

About a week later, Daniel told her he'd bring someone over for dinner the next day.

She was smiling while cooking, because while she may not have enough food, she really did like cooking for others. It made her happy to have people enjoying her food, and it didn't take as much out of her as cleaning did. She did have to clean that morning, but a nap refreshed her and calmed the dull ache of her ankle enough to tackle the cooking. Josiah, one of her brother's friends and a decent hunter in his own right, came by with a couple jackrabbits and left with the skins after she had finished with them. Soon, she had a proper stew simmering in the pot and she was able to work on some mending she'd agreed to do for some of the bachelor mine workers in exchange for whatever vegetables they could gather up, plus a couple shots of half-decent liquor to spice up the stew some. Daniel really liked that, she knew, and so would any friend he'd bring home, since they were all men--sometimes the thought would flit in her mind that one day he'd bring home a nice girl, but he'd only laugh if she brought it up. She still hoped it'd happen one day, just as much as she feared it.

As soon as she fixed up Johann's spare pair of pants, she heard voices outside her door and smiled to hear how happy her brother sounded. Whenever she saw him with others, it always amazed her how much brighter he seemed in comparison, like the full moon in a sky full of stars. She rose to her feet when the door was opened, wanting to greet her brother's friend properly without incurring the looks of pity that were inevitable because everyone knew about her condition, her hands flat against the table.

Daniel entered their home first with a smile, a wave, and a, "I'm back, Nattie!" Then his friend followed behind, and suddenly Natalie was glad she was supported by something as she stared at the newcomer in surprise and amazement. Her brother seemed to notice, because he let loose a bark of laughter, doubling over when she glared at him in embarrassment. "You should've seen your face!" Daniel crowed. She decided to ignore her foolish brother and tried to smile at his giant of a friend. His friend nodded back. Not really too good with starting conversations with people she didn't know, Natalie could feel her lips stiffening as she kept smiling like any good hostess would've done.

Thankfully, her brother finally got over his amusement. "Okay, sorry," he said, wiping his hands down the front of his pants. "Natalie, this is Dorcas. He's one of the new guys who came in with the last group. He does good work. Hey." Daniel tapped Dorcas' meaty forearm with the back of his hand to get his friend's attention. "This is my big sister, Natalie. She's had to put up with me for her whole life, so be kind to her, okay?"

Natalie rolled her eyes at her brother's standard introduction, knowing that it was the reason why she was accepted so well around the shantytown. None of the miners her brother talked to ever disrespected her, though they sure didn't mind doing it to the other women. She thought it had something to do with his mixture of kindness and force, friendly but willing to stand up and fight if he had to. In this case, she thought the warning was lost on his new friend; there were quiet types, and then there was this Dorcas. "Danny, leave him alone," she said after a heartbeat of utter silence. "Those kind of words don't go well with dinner."

Her brother slanted his gaze to meet hers. "Yeah, you're right." Tapping his friend again, he nodded his head towards the direction of the table. "I was telling you my sister cooked the best meals in all the villages of Uchitel, right? Here's the proof right here. C'mon."

If she had to tell the truth later on, this first night didn't make much of an impression on Natalie. Dorcas never said more than mumbles of agreement when he was coaxed, and she wasn't the type who could get anyone to talk if they didn't want to. Her brother was, but like the full moon sometimes he shone a little too bright. He was in too good of a mood tonight, changing from one subject to another with no provocation, craving an audience more than conversation. It wasn't as if she minded; as soon as he had been old enough, Daniel had always spoken for the both of them. What she did remember about this night, then, was the warm feeling she had always felt when there was more than just herself and her brother at the table, when her brother was allowed to fully shine after a long day of backbreaking work at the mines, when the two of them could simply be without having the hopelessness of their situation weighing them down. Dorcas allowed all this to happen without a complaint, listening and nodding and definitely enjoying her stew, if the multiple servings proved one thing. There was a definite feeling of contentment in the one-room row house that night, just as nice as having cool mountain water rushing over her feet.

She didn't know Dorcas very well, but Natalie was kind of grateful towards him anyway.

-to be continued...-

Because if it's the last thing I do, I'm going to write a story for every married couple in FE7 with at least one playable unit. Apparently.

I'm trying something a little different with this one, working more on building atmosphere through the setting rather than characterization. I have a feeling that's not quite what happened, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter anyway. This will be a monthly serial released on the first Monday of each month, and there are five parts in all. I'd love to hear what you think, so please feel free to review if you like. Thank you for reading!