Aria's Needle ~ A Sewing Story

Inspired by Karen's story post I'm sharing something I've been playing with... It all started with this pin: 

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Softly humming, Aria sat in an open grassy field; her needle weaving in and out, in and out, gently, rhythmically, methodically, quickly through the fabric in her lap. She felt the soft breeze brush her cheek on it’s way by, and the sun warm her head as she sat and sewed the fabric she had been given for that day’s assignment. With a jolt, her fingers reached for fabric and found none. She had come to the end. There was nothing more in her lap.  Jerking her head up, Aria softly gasped as she glanced around. While the fabric had disappeared, the once empty green field around her was covered in exquisite blooms.

From atop the tower of wisdom, the Headmistress of Fairy Godmothers turned away and began down the winding stair well, busily making plans for what now must be done. Aria had shown much skill and quick progress for one so young and newly entered into the School of Fairy Godmothers. Today revealed potential rarely seen and envious whispers were already rising from the girls in the court yard who had also witnessed Aria’s unintentional feat. Something must be done quickly so her thoughts would not be poisoned and her gift lost or twisted beyond recognition. 

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Shivering, Aria wrapped her arms around her knees, pulling herself into a ball as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. Where was she? This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it. She was supposed to be at home! With her brothers and sisters around the hearth. Telling stories as she did the day’s mending. Not here in some dark hole! What gifts did she have? Sent away from home because she was special. Sent away from school because she was special. “A power to create.” the headmistress had said. Some creating! More like the destruction of her life! 

“There is power in your needle Aria.” the headmistress had explained. Some power. Where had it been when the bandits attacked their cart? When she’d been dragged away with a bag over her head and shoved in this place? 

She unclasped her hands and sat up, fiddling through the layers of her traveling dress to feel the needle sewn into the hem of her chemise. She poked it through and drew out that long thin bit of metal. It glimmered faintly in her palm.  

The headmistress’s words continued to echo through her mind, “There is power in your needle Aria. It is a power that you must learn to use and control. Many will want what you can give them and you must grow in discernment as you grow in skill. The Eagle’s Crag will be a quiet private place for you to do that.”

Power. She mused, index finger poking the needle. “Power. Well let’s see what this can do.” as she plucked a strand of hair from her head and threaded the eye. Her hands felt for the first of many rents in her cloak. “Dragging someone blindfolded through a forest could cause almost as much damage as her brothers in the pigpen.” she mused. 

Aria began to mend; her needle moving in and out, in and out, quickly, quietly sewing up the holes. She sat in the darkness and thought of home, of warmth.

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Now Aria's Needle has taken on a life of it's own and I'm not sure where it will lead...