Love & War

War [wawr] - noun 1. a conflict carried on by force of arms, as between nations or between parties within a nation; warfare, as by land, sea, or air.
2. a state or period of armed hostility or active military operations: The two nations were at war with each other.

3.a contest carried on by force of arms, as in a series of battles or campaigns: the War of 1812.

4. active hostility or contention; conflict; contest: a war of words.

5. aggressive business conflict, as through severe price cutting in the same industry or any other means of undermining competitors: a fare war among airlines; a trade war between nations.

6. a struggle: a war for men's minds; a war against poverty.

7. armed fighting, as a science, profession, activity, or art; methods or principles of waging armed conflict: War is the soldier's business

8. a game for two or more persons, played with a 52-card pack evenly divided between the players, in which each player turns up one card at a time with the higher card taking the lower, and in which, when both turned up cards match, each player lays one card face down and turns up another, the player with the higher card of the second turn taking all the cards laid down.

Yeah. Nothing about forcing marriage. Okay, not forcing. More like arranging possible marriage. Not a single thing! Yet, her I am. About to meet my future husband. Yes. Meet. I’ve never met this guy before. Okay, that’s a complete lie. I met him once! I was about six. He was seven. I tend to hold grudges and because he pushed me in the mud while I was wearing my favorite dress, and ruining it, I have decided to make this whole thing much more dreadful than it needs to be.

I walk slowly down the stairs, being careful not to make too much noise. I would hate for my sisters to start throwing questions at me.

“Anna!” Grace shouts shooting out of her bedroom and meeting me at the top of the stairs.

“Hey Gracie.” I say and continue to ascend down stairs, pushing my ginger colored curls off my shoulder.

“Are you excited?” Grace questions me. Excited? Hardly. I’m about to agree to marry a complete stranger in order to save him from being drafted into war. I can decline of course, my father would probably throw a fit if I do that.

Apparently this guy is a genius. He needs my hand in marriage to keep himself securely in college. Then he’ll get a great job and leave me to live comfortably. Comfortably unhappy and stuck with his guy. My father made me agree, he only wants the best for me after all. That’s what he says anyway.

“Not exactly.” I say with a sarcastic smile.

“Why not? You’re getting married! You’re marrying one of the smartest guys around! Plus, Mary’s sister said he is very attractive.”

“Mary’s sister also said the mail man was attractive.” I say. Really, Mary’s sister thinks every member of the male population is attractive. Just as Grace opens her mouth to reply the doorbell rings through the house.

“They’re here!” my father calls rushing toward the door. My dad’s a chubby guy. Fairly tall. He’s got brown hair that is thinning near the middle of his head. His face always has a red tint to it.

I find myself in the dinner room two hours after the intial arrival of my future husband and his parents. Both my sisters have been shooed away and I sit on one side of the table with my dad. My soon to be husband sits on the opposite side of the table with both of his parents.

“Naturally, you understand why we’re asking you to do this Anna.” Edward says. Edward is a good looking man. Dark hair. Blue eyes. Pale skin. Sharp facial features.

“I do.” I respond curtly.

“Will you?” Oliver asks. He looks similar to his father. Except for he’s got his mother’s green eyes and heart shaped lips. Oliver, I must say is good looking. I also must say he is very rude and full of himself. Not the kind of full of himself in which he talks about himself constantly. The way he doesn’t say anything at all just screams ‘I’m too good to talk to you.’ I can tell by his actions that he thinks he’s too good for me.

I raise one eyebrow and stare at melting candle wax rolling down the white candle stick. My father elbows me discretely in the side. I chew on lip, loving the tension I’m causing.

“Anna?” he asks quietly. He speaks quietly. He tries to pull off that whole modest, shy genius thing. I see straight through his act.

“I’ll think about it.” I say blandly. Oliver’s face turns red. He’s more than likely suppressing anger. How dare a peasant such as myself reject royalty?

“Anna, please?” Sarah covers my hands with her’s. Her eyes are pleading me as she speaks. “He’s my only child. He can’t go to war! The war is brutal, he’ll get shot or he’ll go crazy! I can’t lose him. I can’t lose my only baby!” Sarah begins to cry. “Please!” she begs. I can see she either really wants this marriage to take place or she’s a marvelous actress.

“I will.” I agree finally. Even if Sarah was acting it was still heart breaking. Heart breaking enough for me to surrender in the fight to stay unmarried.

Oliver’s green eyes stared at my own green eyes for a long while before our awkward gaze was broken.

“When’s the wedding?” my father asked cheerily, a smile spread across his red chubby face. Leave it to dad to break the awkward silence.