Stalks of Gold: Original First Chapter
Hey guys! Stalks of Gold recently passed 100 reviews on Amazon! And as I promised in my newsletter, I’m releasing the very first version of Aurelia and Sandor’s first scene, and since I like you all so much, I decided to just release the whole first chapter so you can see what I changed and what I kept! As a reminder this was the very first version of the book that I wrote years ago, like a long time ago. So there will of course be errors and an overall lower quality to it, but I love learning by seeing other people’s growth. I also just love seeing and hearing about people’s processes in writing and other arts, and I feel like I always learn something myself, so I want to be able to offer that to someone else. Or just show you how I originally envisioned the book! I hope you all enjoy!
He was disappointed in her; it wasn’t a secret. Anyone could see it.
The wheel spun as her foot pumped the treadle. Her fingers worked quickly as the fibers twisted into yarn and she let it wind around the bobbin.
She didn’t mean to be a disappointment. Her father didn’t mean to rub her face in it, but she didn’t live up to his expectations. She heard it in the way he talked to everyone else about her. He told anyone who would listen how talented she was when she was everything that was average.
Her candle sputtered and flickered. She considered trying to spin the dark. Having any fire, no matter how small, so close always made her anxious, but there was too much wool to spin before morning, so the candle stayed.
The bobbin spun faster, and her fingers worked to pick up the pace. Spinning yarn was thoughtless. She’d been doing it for so long her hands just went through the motions. She didn’t have to think about anything. Her eyes focused on the wheel as it spun and spun. The spindles blurred, and her eyes burned.
“Aurelia!”
Her hands dropped the wool as she leapt to her feet. Her heart raced as she glanced around for her father. She was alone. Then she heard it, someone was knocking at the door. Aurelia hurried to the door and opened it.
She’s not sure what she expected, knowing her father was busy with the mill.
She didn’t expect an old woman to be shivering in the rain.
“Um, hello, how may I help you?” Aurelia asked, clearing her throat.
“I was so afraid no one was home. I’ve been walking in this rain for hours and your home is the first I stumbled upon. If you would be so kind as to give me a roof over my head for the night, I would be so grateful.” The old woman didn’t take off her hood, and her voice rasped and groaned.
Aurelia bit her lip. If it were up to her, she’d offer it, but she needed to ask her father. He’d say yes, but if she didn’t ask he’d be upset. She stepped back and gestured her inside. “Um, just give me a moment, but do step in out of the rain. You’ll get sick standing out there too long.”
“Of course, a lovely young lady such as yourself wouldn’t live alone, go ahead.” The old woman stepped inside and took her hood down.
Old was an understatement. Aurelia didn’t mean to be rude, but ancient even seemed to be too generous. Her hair was pure white and painfully thin and damaged. She had a walking stick in one hand that she leaned heavily on. Her shoulders hunched forward so much she was a good deal short than Aurelia, who couldn’t be considered anything but tiny herself. What teeth she had were cracked and yellowed. Her wrinkles carved into her cheeks and forehead, weighing her down even further. Once she realized she’d been staring, Aurelia hurried to the door connecting their home to the mill. Their home was small as was their mill.
Aurelia spotted her father instantly as she opened the door. She said, “Sorry to interrupt, I know you’re busy, but it was an old woman at the door. She’s looking for shelter. Is that alright?”
“Of course! Bring her in and build the fire! We’re not such miserable creatures to lack charity or hospitality!” Her father laughed as he set aside the bag of flour he had been tying up.
He quickly joined them in their living room where the woman stood by back door Aurelia had let her in from. Aurelia hovered behind him as he quickly greeted the woman with a smile and set about making the fire.
“You are more than welcome to stay the night, madame.” Aurelia’s father set up the logs. He glanced over his shoulder. He gave Aurelia a pointed look. “Aurelia, help me get our guest comfortable, something to eat.”
Aurelia ducked her head and hurried to their small kitchen. She pulled out a small load of bread and an apple. She cut both items into thirds. They didn’t have much else. She wouldn’t have the money to buy anything else until the next day.
“Please, don’t trouble yourselves on my account. I’m grateful to be out of the cold. I need nothing else,” the woman said, shivering in her soaked cloak.
“It’s no trouble at all,” Aurelia insisted, pointing towards the chair closest to the fire. She picked up one portion. “Go on, take your cloak off and have a seat. I’ll get you a blanket.”
“That’s so kind of you,” the woman slid her cloak off. Aurelia’s father took it from her and set it in front of the fire. Aurelia handed her the bread and fruit before ducking into the tiny room she slept in. She picked up the blanket off her cot and unfolded it. She wrapped it around the woman who smiled at Aurelia in response.
“Never let it be said that my girl is anything but generous and kind.” Her father boomed as he got to his feet with the fire burning.
Aurelia wrapped her arms around herself, adding wood to the list of things they would need from the market. Her stomach rolled. She didn’t think her yarn would give her enough money for it all.
“I’m sure no one would ever say a bad word about her. She’s quite beautiful and kind.” The woman cooed like one does at a friendly dog. Aurelia’s skin crawled. “I must know the names of my gracious hosts.”
“I’m Meldon, and my daughter is Aurelia.” Her father caught Aurelia by the arm as she tried to slink past and clapped her on the back. Aurelia nodded silently. “She takes after her mother entirely. She gets all her beauty and talent from her. I can’t tell you how many people stare at her in the market, and it’s certainly not because she gets her looks from me!”
“Oh, where is your wife?”
Aurelia pulled herself out of her father’s grip, sitting down at her stool. She pinched the candle flame, ignoring how her fingertips burned.
The silence that fell was painful. Her father looked down and coughed. Aurelia picked up her wool and began spinning again, trying to lose herself in the rough texture of the wool and the wheel spinning in front of her.
“She passed away many years ago,” Meldon said quietly as the fire crackled softly.
“I’m so sorry to hear that. It is never easy to lose someone like that,” the woman said, adjusting her blanket.
“It never is,” he agreed. “But, we get by. It’s not so bad just the two of us.”
Aurelia felt their gazes on her, but she stayed focused on her work.
It was bad. Her father was growing older and while the water mill made the work easier there was still much to be done and he did it all. He couldn’t do as much as he used to, and the farmers had started to visit other mills because of it. Despite the fact her father made less, taxes had increased, and it was all the king’s doing.
They were scraping by with what work her father did have and with her picking up more spinning work, but it wasn’t easy.
She kept her back to the room, but heard her father sit down by the fire as well. The woman spoke quietly, but Aurelia could clearly hear her. “She spins very fast and very well. Where did she learn?”
“Oh, she just has a natural talent for it! The spinning wheel was her mother’s and Aurelia took to it so well. She does such a wonderful job spinning yarn. Her yarn and thread ought to be sold to the king’s weavers, truly it’s of such a high quality.”
There he goes again. Aurelia gathered up more wool into her lap, not bothering to slow down as her other hand kept pulling and releasing the twisting fibers.
“My girl, she’s so talented she could spin straw into gold if she wanted to.”
She winced, slowing down slightly.
A chair behind her creaked like someone was sitting up.
“Really, what a rare talent.”
“Of course! She works magic with that spinning wheel. I don’t know where I’d be without her.”
She wanted to be flattered. She wanted to believe he said those things because he was proud and prone to exaggerating, but it was all done from love. She really tried to believe it, but she didn’t. Aurelia knew who she was. She was pretty, but not uncommonly so. She could spin decent yarn and thread, but anyone could do it. If she missed a week’s worth, the merchant she dealt with would replace her in a day. She was replaceable.
Aurelia wasn’t set to live a miserable life; she wasn’t that hard on herself. She figured she would meet someone who liked her well enough and could offer her a nice home. She hoped he would be someone she liked well enough as well. She would still spin to make money, and he would work. They would take care of her father when he was too old to work. Her extra money would be put to good use feeding and clothing any children. It would be a simple life, and that was all she let herself ask for.
Her father was close to delusional. He had dreams of her somehow pulling them out of poverty. She’d be walking down the street and some noble would see her and instantly fall in love. Some rich man would see her work and ask for her hand right then. He believed in those stories where the poor girls are plucked from their miserable, hard lives to marry kings because they fell in love at one glance or during one dance.
That’s how she knew he was disappointed in her. He wanted a daughter who was so beautiful and talented kings fell at her feet, but he had her. No matter how much he bragged, exaggerated, and outright lied about her to others, it didn’t change the fact Aurelia could never be the daughter he envisioned.
Her hands were empty. She looked up. The wheel was still spinning as her foot kept moving, but she’d run out of wool. She blinked. The bobbin was full anyway. She needed to fill another bobbin before her work was done for the night.
Aurelia went about setting up her next bobbin as her father and the woman continued talking. She ignored them as she sat back down and started spinning again.
He meant well. She knew he did, but it was hard to listen to him go on when she knew she would never have the life he wanted for her, to give him the kind of life he wanted in his old age.
She was content with her life.
Kind of.
She tried to be at least. Being realistic was important. She’d be setting herself up for a life of disappointment if she tried to over value herself. She could have a decent life, one of honest, hard work. There was no shame in that, but it wasn’t very romantic.
Aurelia tried very hard not to be romantic. The world very rarely rewarded romantics. Aurelia found the world to be kinder to practical people, so practical she became.
- * * *
“You don’t have to go so early, Aurelia. You could stay for a minute, keep our guest company. The market isn’t going anywhere,” Meldon said as Aurelia was gathering her yarn up. The sun was well into the sky that morning, and Aurelia tried not to be frantic in her movements, but she’d slept too long. She wanted to get to the market quickly, so she could find the best deals, knowing how far she needed to stretch their money.
Aurelia wrapped her shawl around her shoulders. She glanced at the woman who was still fast asleep by the remains of the fire. She raised an eyebrow at her father. “I don’t think she needs any company. She’ll probably sleep a while longer anyway. I’m sure she needs it. Who knows how long she walked out in that storm before she saw us?”
“All the more reason to be here when she wakes up.” Her father stood in front of the door, as Aurelia picked up her basket of yarn. “I’m sure she could use something to eat when she does. Poor woman is skin and bones.”
“There’s still a little bit of bread, and if we want to eat tonight, I need to go to market and take some flour to the baker at least.” Aurelia ducked around him to get into the mill. She picked up the flour set aside for the baker and hefted it over her shoulder. Her father stood in the doorway.
This wasn’t about the woman.
She narrowed her eyes. “What is this about? Why do you want me to wait?”
Her father pursed his lips and didn’t say anything. Aurelia looked over her shoulder to see the flour set aside for guards when they came to collect the tax. Of course. She should have realized it as soon as he wanted her to stay.
“No, I’m not staying. I have more important things to do than sit here waiting for that awful guard to come by.” Aurelia’s voice dropped as she turned to go out the mill’s front entrance.
Her father trailed behind her. “That’s not at all what—”
“Have a nice day, father. I’ll be back shortly.” Aurelia cut him off as she opened the door. She smiled behind her as her father frowned. She didn’t give him a chance to protest any more as she was out the door.
Aurelia paused, shifting the flour on her shoulder and her basket before stepping onto the path that took her towards the capital. It wasn’t a long walk, and the day was nice. Their mill was far enough away to take advantage of the water wheel and for the farmers of the surrounding land to use, but close enough to visit the market daily if she wished.
Her shoulder ached from the weight of the flour, but she gritted her teeth and toughed it out as the city’s gate was in sight. The guards at the gate let her pass through with no problem. She didn’t mind them. They were quiet and never bothered her. They didn’t enforce the king’s ridiculous taxes.
She visited the baker first, wanting to get rid of the heavy bag on her shoulder before anything else. The baker and his wife were decent people. They had never tried to shortchange her and were always kind, willing to trade stories about their own respective hardships or successes. They were expecting their first child. Aurelia beamed at them and congratulated them. The baker’s wife rubbed her stomach fondly. She told Aurelia she hoped for a girl, but she had a feeling it would be a boy. Aurelia told her the baby would be beautiful regardless. The baker’s wife smiled, paused, and told Aurelia she should take better care of herself. Aurelia looked tired, worn down. Was her father alright? Aurelia assured the baker’s wife her father was fine, and she would get some rest. Aurelia left soon after.
She rubbed her shoulder, shifting her basket as she headed down the cobblestone street to the market. As she walked, she went through the list in her head of what they needed, and which was most important. Reluctantly, she put a winter coat for her father at the bottom of the list, but she wished she could get him one. Last winter had been hard, and she worried if he didn’t have one this winter he would fall dangerously ill.
Aurelia absentmindedly let her hand slid into the coin pouch attached to her waist. Times were tough.
The interaction with the yarn merchant was short. She praised Aurelia for her satisfactory work and paid her the fair amount. Aurelia counted it and thanked her. She promised her just as much by that time next week. The merchant agreed, and Aurelia went on her way to buy the wool she would need.
Every time she went to the market was much like the last. She always got the essentials and bemoaned the fact she didn’t have enough to get the last thing she knew they needed. Something was always put off.
She’d accomplished everything she needed to in a good amount of time. She glanced up at the sun, hoping the guards would be gone by the time she got back.
“Aurelia!”
Speak of the devil, and he shall appear. Aurelia supposed thinking of him was just as bad.
She froze in the market and wondered if she stood still, would he be unable to see her? Or should she just try to lose him in the crowd?
“Aurelia! Hello, I called your name, did you hear me?” A hand gently touched her shoulder.
Aurelia rolled her eyes, but she turned around. She smiled tightly. “I heard you, Sandor.”
His smile faltered for a moment, but returned as he said, “Oh, well, it’s a coincidence to run into you. I was just about to head to your father’s mill. It’s that time again, unfortunately.”
Aurelia pursed her lips and started to walk away. “Hmm, yes, unfortunately for you, I’m sure.”
Sandor quickly matched her stride. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing at all, sir.” Aurelia kept her gaze ahead of her, keeping one hand on her purse, just to be safe.
“Right,” Sandor cleared his throat. He glanced around for a moment before saying, “So, uh, that was quite some storm last night. I’m surprised it’s so sunny and bright today.”
Aurelia really wished she wasn’t subjected to his awkward small talk. He was just going to take her a ridiculous amount of her father’s flour. There was no need to fake politeness. No one liked the tax collectors.
“How did you and your father weather the storm? Well, I hope?” Sandor prompted at her silence.
“Yes, we were fine. Poor woman at our doorstep was soaked, but she was alright after sitting by the fire,” Aurelia absentmindedly said. She had nothing else to talk about anyway.
“A woman showed up at your doorstep and you just let her in?” Sandor paused, falling a step behind Aurelia as she paid him no mind.
Aurelia looked at him through the corner of her eyes. “Yes, we did. She was in the rain, looking for shelter. She’s just an old woman. She’s harmless.”
“Just because she’s older doesn’t mean she’s harmless. Haven’t you ever heard about witches?” Sandor caught up to her, trying to catch her eye.
Aurelia rolled her eyes. “Please, what would a witch want with me and my father?”
“I’m not saying she is a witch. I’m saying a stranger could be anyone.” Sandor huffed. “It’s just you and your father. If someone wanted to do something terrible, you might not be able to stop them.”
“That’s an interesting bit of logic.” Aurelia turned her nose up at him even thought he was quite taller than her. “I suppose you might as well turn back now than waste your time walking with me.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Well, if a stranger could do something terrible, I shouldn’t let them in. I know you’re going to do something terrible, so I’m not going to let you into my father’s mill. You said it yourself. I’m sure your superiors will understand when you explain why I can’t just let anyone into my home.” Aurelia picked up her pace.
Sandor kept up with her, gasping. “I’m not a stranger, and I’d never do something terrible to you or your father! I’m your friend!”
Aurelia stopped, and Sandor turned to face her. “Every two weeks you come into our mill taking my nearly all my father’s flour that he ground in the king’s name, leaving barely a pittance to survive on until you come again. How is that not something terrible? How could you possibly be considered a friend?”
Sandor gaped at her, opening and closing his mouth, but he was unable to articulate anything.
Aurelia stepped around him, continuing on her way. Footsteps followed her, but he didn’t attempt to say anything. Aurelia’s heart sunk slightly. She hadn’t meant to be so cutting, but he was no friend of hers. She could hardly voice her complaints to the king himself, so she settled with voicing them to his guard who collected the tax. She knew it wasn’t fair, and Sandor hadn’t cheated them yet, but he was still the king’s guard. He did them no favors, and the shorter their interactions were, the happier she was.
I actually heavily rewrote the whole structure of the opening chapters of Stalks of Gold a few times. I have several more chapters that continue exploring this more outright hostile relationship Aurelia has with Sandor, despite Sandor’s efforts otherwise! And yes, originally Gothel was the one who showed up at Aurelia’s doorstep in the night! I’d actually love to do a more in depth look as to why the opening I had originally envisioned with Gothel, Aurelia hating Sandor, and Aurelia’s fraught relationship with her father didn’t work for the story and how I overhauled it. So, if that’s something you’re interested in, let me know! I’ll release the next original first draft chapter when Stalks of Gold reaches 125 reviews on Amazon!