The Banished Luna

Chapter 4

Georgia felt foolish standing before the Alpha and Luna in the rough tunic and apron.

You look like an old-timey washerwoman. Geneva scoffed.

"This will be your daily clothing for the near future" Luna Erika replied out loud.

Shit! I forgot!

The corners of the Luna's mouth turned up ever so slightly, but she suppressed the chuckle that bubbled in her throat.

"My sister is correct" Alpha Torvald replied. "You will wash your own clothes, and likely, the clothes of other pack members. But mostly, you will help the cooks prepare our communal meals. You will also attend lessons at the Wisdom House to learn the Old Ways."

"Yes, sir" She replied meekly.

"Now, you've met myself, my sister, and her eldest, Kara" He motioned to a teenage boy next to Kara "This is her son, Tor. Our youngest sister, Agnes, her mate Heikki and their children Einar and little Matti. And you've already met..."

"Och aye!" Flora interrupted, taking Georgia's hand and pulling her towards a handsome man surrounded by a gaggle of teenagers "This is my mate, Ahti and our brood, Catriona, Leif, Veikko, Eilidh, Niamh and..." She lifted a small child into her arms. "...wee Orla was our surprise." Flora kissed the little girl's cheek with a loud smack.

Georgia smiled tentatively at Flora's boisterous display, so different from the stoic calm of the rest of the family.

"Uh yes." Alpha Torvald cleared his throat. "Ahti is our cousin, and Flora came to us from Scotland." He crossed to a small figure huddled under woolen blankets by the fire. He gently laid a hand on the shoulder of the form, and a head crowned in snow-white hair slowly turned to the side.

"This is the American one?" A voice croaked.

"Yes." The Alpha spoke in low reverent tones.

"Come here." A pale crooked hand reached out to Georgia, and the Alpha nodded for her to approach.

Georgia could sense Geneva's fear rising within her, but her wolf did not dare speak.

"Let me see you" The voice spoke again.

Georgia slowly stepped between the chair and the fire, eyes downcast. She noticed a small red fox curled up in the blankets on the old woman’s lap.

"Our grandmother, the matriarch and spákona of Snowbright pack, Mummu Sigrit." Alpha Torvald tugged down on Georgia's elbow. She took the hint and kneeled before the crone.

Sigrit looked over the new pack member with sharp ice-blue eyes, then grabbed her chin with a clawed hand and turned her head left and right. "You are young to have committed such treason."

Georgia opened her mouth to protest, but the Alpha answered for her.

"Her adoptive father was the one who organized the mutiny. Georgia is being punished for her part in his betrayal." He clarified.

"And her true father?"

"The Alpha of the conquered Blackthorn pack. She was raised by his Beta after they were accepted into North Star pack"

"Hmmm. I see. And her wolf?"

"Ambitious, arrogant, and spoiled. They both are."

Georgia winced at the description, but clenched her fists and remained silent.

"Very well. She will attend to me at the Wisdom House tonight."

"Yes, Mummu. Come, Georgia, you will work in the kitchen today." The Alpha addressed the rest of the family. "Everyone else, you can return to your duties."

Flora approached them. “Stay here, I’ll be right back and show you around the kitchen.” And with that, she and Ahti bustled their kids out of a side door.

Kara hurried over to the fire to help her great-grandmother. The old woman leaned on the young one’s arm as they made their way out, with the fox padding silently beside them. As they passed by Georgia, Kara shot daggers at her, as if she resented the newcomer being in the presence of her beloved matriarch.

Alone once again, Georgia let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

“What’s the deal with that old lady? And another fox, too!”

You’ve never even had a job and now you’ll basically be a slave.

Georgia ignored her wolf’s mocking tone. “And what does that even mean, that I’ll “attend to” her?”

Probably that you have to rub her gnarly old feet and change her diapers.

“You’re not helping” Georgia hissed.

You lost Rhys, you couldn’t conceive an Alpha pup, and you couldn’t defend your place as Luna. And now you’re stuck in this frigid hell-hole. Why would I help you when you can’t even help yourself?

“Geneva, stop.”

And now you’re crying. Again. You’re pathetic.

“I’m not crying” She said through gritted teeth, despite the fat tears rolling down her cheeks.

“I’m back! Ok, Georgie, let’s get on to the kitchens.” Flora strode back into the longhouse, but stopped when she saw Georgia's tears.

“Och, more tears? Now now, tell ye’re Auntie Flora what’s amiss.” She pulled an embroidered handkerchief from an apron pocket and wiped Georgia’s cheeks.

“It’s nothing” She sniffed.

“Doesn’t seem like nothing, lass.” She pinched the young woman’s nose with the handkerchief. “Blow!”

Georgia swatted Flora’s hand away. “I’m not a little kid.”

“Maybe not, but ye’re nae much older than my Cartriona. And even when grown-up girls have grown-up troubles, a little mothering can go a long way. So, blow.”

Georgia smiled a little and let Flora blow her nose.

“There now,” Flora dabbed at her nose once more, then tucked the handkerchief in Georgia’s apron. “Keep this. I have a feeling ye may need it again.”

“Thanks, Flora. I can’t remember ever being mothered.” The thought had never crossed Georgia’s mind. But it had always been just her and her father. He had never found a mate and didn’t seem to want one.

“Never? What about yer own mam?”

"She died when I was born.”

“Och, poor lamb. Well, I’ll give ye all the mothering ye want while yer here.”

Maybe it was the exhaustion, maybe it was the isolation, but Flora’s warmth completely disarmed the cold young woman.

“I’ll probably be a terrible daughter,” Georgia said with a little smile.

Flora gave her a long hug, and for once, Georgia let herself melt into it. She let out a long breath and truly relaxed for the first time in months.

“Ye needed that, I think.” Flora stroked her new charge’s long hair. “Now, before we go to the kitchen, let’s put yer hair up. The last thing ye want is yer lovely locks trailing in the dishwater.”

Georgia sat in the chair that Sigrit had vacated. After digging in her apron for a moment, Flora pulled out a long patterned ribbon and used it to braid Georgia’s hair and wrap the braids around her head.

The young woman patted the braided crown with curiosity. “How did you do that so fast? And without pins or elastics?”

“Lots of practice.” She chuckled. “Right then, to the kitchens! Nae use in putting it off any longer.”