prayed to keep my soul
S
he was a good girl. Maybe a bit distant, her head in the clouds, but with enough of Elena's deep love to make her life so meaningful. She is a good girl. That is why she is here now, beside a stranger, using any ounce of charm and wit that can get her into the castle and to the little creature who needed her help. A little creature who was innocent of anything except perhaps a moment of mischief, or maybe just a rebellious act. If that were the case, if he should be punished, then perhaps every child from Dusk to Day should be punished too. Maybe Elliana should be locked behind the bars along with this strange creature that she has already determined would be her friend. Perhaps. Her eyes are wide, and Elliana watches her with the bright blue of her own, waiting to see what she would say. “Please,” she mimics the way her own mother stares up underneath long, dark lashes. Elliana flashes a smile in the guard’s direction before she mimics Elena again, touching Maeve on the shoulder, the same way Elena had her so many times before. “Thank you,” she says, soft and uncertain, shy and silver and soaked in starlight. Then, again, “Thank you,” softer, lighter, with a note of warmth confidence her mother would be proud of.
A white leg strikes itself forward as she starts to move off, sleek, slender, young body moving through the halls of the unfamiliar place, hoping the girl would keep up with her. “Elliana,” she says quietly, as if she were to say it too loud the entire plan she was constructing would fall away into nothing. This plan she builds step by step, when she doesn't know what to do next, is so unsure so she just keeps walking.
“I told you,” she says with whispers ribboned in her words. “We are saving my friend.” Her friend she has never met, a friend she know she is supposed to save because it means more than just his innocence, there is something to this story. Their story. “I just don't know where he is,” she says and stops, halts in her steps for the first time. Her mother always told her if she was lost to stay where you are. But what about when you are not the one who is lost, if you are not the one who is trouble. What then?
And then she hears it, from the back of her mind it crawls over her head and rests there behind her eyes, inside her ears. A scream. Crying. From not too far away, the lemur emerges, running on three legs, a dinner roll held firmly in his remaining paw. Kitchen workers chase him, arms with pots and pan, one with a wooden spoon. There was no forgiveness in their eyes, there was no kindness in their hearts. They were empty in their compassion and the empath’s daughter nearly breaks apart, but she turns to Maeve with a single glance, asking for a promise of help, another please. “Come on!” She yelps and leaps forward. And she mimics not her mother in this moment, but she looks entirely herself. Entirely Elliana.
@Maeve speaks
elliana
—
« ♡ »
—
« ♡ »
