(A hundred word drabble)
Even as a young girl, she had felt the incessant tug of destiny. The strain caused by the Sight she had never received, the weight of the too-small cerulean tunic draped across her shoulders. Pulled by a fate she did not want, she resisted.
When the bells and the book came for her, she still fought back. She refused the surcoat that would change her forever. Against the tide of the future, she resisted.
But when Nicholas took her hand in the pale moonlight, there was no struggle from her, no conflict.
And when he reached for her, she answered.