Her child, one of several otherwise unwanted waifs within the village that she'd adopted, brought him to Ma. An older woman who was scarred and, yet, quite strong. She never gave up hope. He was old, he was poor, and he spent a great deal of time hungry. She'd seen him begging before, but had never had a chance to speak to him. When he was lead to her by one of her children during the Sunshine Festival, she had the chance to do so. No pay for a meal, only spend time with the children. As the sun rose, an invitation came to stay with her and her family in their home. For some work, and helping her with the family, he would have a roof over his head and food in his belly.
@internutter/challenge-02774-g217-finding-a-smile -- Anon Guest
[AN: Bless you with benevolent synchronicity for adding the link into this prompt]
The sun rose. Enough smiles had brought springtime forth. The people thought it was their festival and the sweets, but it was truly won by the ugliest, the unhappiest, and the unwanted. Smiles can be performative. They can be a mask. They can, very obviously, be a lie.
The town had forgotten that it was true, sunny feeling that caused the sun to rise and end the winter. It was true warmth that helped summer along and made it prosper. Now that Neg had found a smile at the bottom of a bowl, the people of Brightherald were about to experience some very interesting times.
It began as all things do, with small things. Neg woke in a warm bed inside a comfortable home, with three other people and at least one animal using him as a personal heater. He woke to the smell of a stew in progress and the rumbling of a kettle. There was a pock-marked child perilously close to his face. Someone was singing - badly.
For Neg, it was the sweetest sound in the world. The ugliest woman in Brightherald was checking the cauldron at the hearth and, judging by the smell from a bowl beside the window, was baking bread today.
Neg extracted himself and considered the long walk to his hovel outside the borders. A long walk through lingering snow, slushy, half-frozen mud, and finishing in a mud and bark hut with no fire and little in the way of firewood to warm it up again.
It was warmer here. It was comfortable here. The smile came back to his usually bitter face. He squirmed free enough to pat the child nearest his face on the head. "Get up, snot font," he growled. He didn't growl it menacingly. He was just a Natural Growler.
The kid blinked muzzily at him and stuck their thumb in their mouth.
"Come on. I need to piss. Up." He added a gentle shove to the child.
Ma noticed and put down her work in progress and shuffled the sleepers on the bed. "There's a tanner bowl outside and to the left. I try to keep the flagstones free of ice, but it's spring." She dug out a pair of boots made of sheepskin. "Don't piss on these."
"I'm okay at aiming," said Neg. "I'll lean."
The morning was warmer than normal spring weather. Neg paid it no mind. He cracked the ice in the water butt and washed his hands on the way back in.
Before he sat for a bowl of stew, he said, "I'm used t' overstaying my welcome. You let me know when to go away when that happens."
"Ain't likely," said Ma. "This is Unwanted House. All the Unwanted come here to stay."
"Should at least work on stuff around the place," he grumbled. "Stuff needs doing." He gave back the sheepskin boots, as they seemed to be communal foot covers for those who could pee in the tanner's bowl, or for those who needed to journey to the privy out the back.
"Those who can, do," said Ma, nodding in agreement. "Got a lot more littles here than as should be. Got less hands than I need."
"Even now?"
"More or less, yeah."
"I'll do my best. Can't promise more."
"Don't expect more."
Unwanted House was small, and crowded, and mostly full of children. Animals seemed to come and go on whims. There was always something that needed fixing, and always some fixes that were too expensive to be permanent. There was always too much to do and not enough time to do it in.
Nevertheless, they were all happy there. Sure, there were things that were irritating, there were arguments, but the overall mood was joy. Neg pooled his resources with Ma, and worked on whatever they could work on together.
That summer was a long one. The autumn faded slowly and the winter was light.
The children of Unwanted House started calling Neg "Gramps", and eagerly pressed him for stories as the days waxed and waned.
The next Sun Rise Fair was hardly dark at all. The sun had seemingly not wanted to vanish, that winter. The lanterns were not lit until the dark of the longest night, which was lit even by the moon and the stars.
There had not been a moon and stars in all the previous winters.
Spring got faster, summer became longer. Autumns were slower and winters less fast. Life became less harsh in Brightherald.
Neg was always a growler. Ma was always grumpy. The children grew as children would do anyway. Soon enough, there were more people in Unwanted House to help with the real problems.
Life got better for the unwanted.
Sun Rise Fair became less and less serious, or at least, less obsessive. People were more inclined towards just having fun during the fair, and less performative about sweets for the sour.
Life got better for the people of Brightherald and few were willing to look into the cause.
Until the summers became a little too long. There was a drought. Things were a little thinner, but not dire for the Unwanted. Not yet.
Three summers later, things were dire for everyone and sour moods abounded. That winter was colder than it had to be. The dots were quickly connected. Which lead, in brief, to the Mood Police.
It was a failure.
Success eventually came when the Unwanted went out from their house to help those in need with the many coping strategies they had learned from their lean times.
The key was balance.
Enough for personal security and wellbeing for all living in Brightherald. No excessive prosperity at the costs of others. No excessive lack from others either.
Neg, at the end of his days, suggested moving the hell out of Brightherald. It would be less fuss all around.
People had their own reasons as to why that suggestion was a load of rubbish. One reason for each person there.
[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / inaquim]
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