Caelum
if you dream all day and drink all night
There was one common truth among all the paths this conversation took.
Never was Caelum's ire directed towards the fellow fae. Never was the snarl for her. Never was the anger Syn's to take claim of. It was the anger of the summer fae that she held for herself, for those who had destroyed her everything. Her future, her happiness, her love, her family, her kingdom, her world. Everything that made her who she had been meant to be: A queen, a daughter, a mother, a wife. Her entire world had gone dark over and over again; that her own light had been stained as a result. Her bubbly personality had long ago shuttered shut, and every time she tried to act like she was who she was before, it grew more and more difficult. To the point, Caelum stopped wanting to try.
She didn't want to ignore the darkness staining her soul.
The snarl was a relief, the anger, the look that fell so naturally upon her, as natural as it had looked on Trey's face when he entered his own defensive stance, and now she adopted it to defend her thoughts, her feelings. It wasn't that she was disregarding the other, but in this moment, Caelum did not want her own suffrage swept under. She was done sacrificing herself for the emotional needs of another. She was done denying herself healing. She was done pushing her emotions and pains into that box deep in her belly and letting them fester. Syn was supposed to be a safe place, an individual she could talk to, not someone to take the blame and ignore her suffering. Caelum might prefer to soothe the pains of others . . .
But for once, Caelum wanted soothing.
And this was not what she was getting. Not as Syn raised her head, not as she was called out for having a features cold and cruel. Slowly those chocolate eyes were hardening, glinting as obsidian in that stormy face. Slowly she felt her shoulders straighten, and her eyes narrow. It was as if she was sucking up all the warmth her home usually held, as her body began to feel cold as ice. "Then you are a fool, cousin; to believe that the Winter Court isn't expected to rebel, just as you are a fool to believe that just because I have adopted a few new masks, does not mean that I am unrecognizable." Her voice was low, hollow, as if staring at her cousin, judging the soul set before her. Her words shifted then, her very tone shifting as the fae who had come into the most of her majority already flared that power, the power that marked her as a Monarch among her people, "Do not count yourself a lesser because you left. Do not consider it something that should never have happened. We all need to escape when everything thing weighs down too hard. You were once my escape, where you not? Does that mean I should have never allowed you to to pull me from my studies? To show me how to cause chaos? "
Caelum frowned, her expression never softening.
Absynthe needed to hear this, "We become what our people need, not through strive and dedication, but through actions and learning. You don't open a book, and read to know what you need to be. You experience it. Through running, through exploring, through living. Fleeing isn't a bad thing when we are youthful and stupid. We're expected to fumble, before we are raised back up. If you still blame yourself for the stresses you were under, perhaps you're just not learning yet." Caelum looked away, cold and angry, "And do not attempt to dictate how We should feel, based on your own opinions, and do not dismiss Our mistakes based on your own perceived failures." The tone had switched again, and suddenly it wasn't the former princess standing before Syn, but the queen of the fae.
"We have stumbled, We have fallen to Our knees. We have seen the chaos with Our own eyes, and held the blade that was driven through the throat of freedom. We have caused the collapse of an empire, by Our own selfish desires, and lack of forethought and planning. We have seen Our people slaughtered like animals before a pyre, and walked into the massacre left behind. You know nothing of what We have done, what We have experienced. And yet, you think your troubles outway Ours?" Caelum stood tall, wings flaring out, as those thorny roses started to grow through out her mane and tail, dripping in dark ruby and curling thorns through her locks, a creature of both light and dark, as her magic flourished in her sorrow that Syn would ignore her pain, her suffering. "So you ran, so you rebelled, so you weren't the picture perfect daughter of Summer. But you were the ideal daughter of Winter. You rebelled, you acted out, and you grew stronger, more competent by that freedom. Because Winter is Chaos. Calamity. Destruction. And in those instances, a rebel is needed to curb those instincts. It's why your father never chased. It's why you were given room. Because to control those very aspects of Winter; would have seen you fail as We have."
The queen felt the shudder down her spine, but she didn't give up, she pushed further, harder. "You're so bitter and angry; you don't want to acknowledge the truths of the world. You see your own failures and become blind to everything around you." Slowly that anger was depleting, the air around Caelum diminishing, but she didn't give up, even as she wondered if this is what her father meant when he complained that arguing with a Winter fae was like trying to point out truths to a wall. But then . . . then she would say such a thing. "YOU THINK YOU WERE NEVER LOVED?!" The shout was echoed over the entire shop, and Caelum is momentarily glad that there is no one else in attendance. "Are you so narrow-minded you cannot see everything your parents did for you? We are not elves, we are not subjected to cruelty from our rulers. Your parents are Winter, yes; but Winter provides the necessities for Spring to Flourish. And just that, your parents were willing to let you do as you needed, to flourish. They may not be the most demonstrative, but do not once assume that they never loved you! Your mother wept when you ran. Your father fretted daily on your welfare. Both their love, their knowledge that this was how you would need to grow; kept them supporting you, even as you ran. It meant they wouldn't corral you. They would let you see the world, let you learn about who you were, and when you would be ready - you would be welcomed home. And I ruined it all, through my actions. You see yourself a pawn for their court. But their court was a pawn they were preparing you to learn to weild." She argued, even as she felt her heart reach for her cousin, begging for a reconciliation. For Syn to understand.
Talking to a wall indeed.
And then, like ice through her veins, her muzzle parts as her cousin would dare to . . . . "I see." The response was quiet, a deadly quiet as she stared hard at her cousin. "I left . . . and forgot about you. How foolish to assume my darkest days were little compared to your need of attention." The words were spat across the distance, ice and poison tainting the soft, quiet speech, "How foolish that my parents would send me away to heal, least the world lose me to the darkness I had embraced upon Arson's death." Her gaze hardened further, "How foolish to assume the bodies I have had to bury, one after another; all my life; would ever compare to your cursed existence. Have you ever considered you are cursed against loved because you cannot love yourself. You must blame others because you don't want to be more than a label. Tell me, Cousin . . . if you are the cold, cruel and uncaring child of winter -- What should that make me? The deadly heat of summer, burning, and causing disfigurement? If we are embracing stereotypes. Shall start spiking the tea in my shop with fruit of our homelands. Shall I begin collecting names. Shall I began collecting thanks. Shall I become the fae of summer. Manipulative, Self-Serving, and disguising it with the idea of 'fun.' Shall I throw parties and never let those of Novus leave - force them to dance for my own entertainment. Your forgot. The Winter Court isn't the court that was feared. It was Us. It was Summer who burned the world."
Caelum had fallen, had turned towards her cousin, towards the one who could chase her pain away. Had clung to her . . . until she had said those words. And it was in desperate need that she pulled away. Standing up, turning away - moving to her counter tops, moving for space. She needed the space, she needed to realize just how soured her cousin's heart was at this time. And could she really judge her for hurting - of course not. But what about her pain? What about everything Caelum was forced to embrace, and endure?
She didn't want to touch her cousin at the moment. Didn't want to look at her. Those words ringing in her head. That everything she felt, everything she would experienced was so weak compared to what Syn felt she was deserved. "You think I should blame you for breaking a promise? Do you know what kept me moving each day? Do you know what made some of those horrible nights easier? You never left me. It was memories of you that would chase the dark. To know, as I was living in another world, another kingdom to get better; that my cousin would never judge me for giving into the dark moments of pain. Memories of you and your never failing acceptance kept me moving. And yet, I learn I'm nothing more than a pretty doll for you to worship and base your own failures off of. Is that all I am to you? A far-to-reach 'ideal' of a princess in white, with a painted-on smile. Crying on the inside, but it doesn't matter, because I look pretty. I smile pretty. I can act pretty. And perfect. And soft. A lovely." Caelum spun back around. "My mirrors in this home are shattered and covered, because I can't stand my own reflection. I can't stand to see the mare staring back at me. I hate her. And you want to place her on a pedestal of grand design, and ignore the suffering I hold in my heart?"
She had pulled away from her cousin's embrace, walked away from the pain.
She doesn't look at her cousin as she's told that she should not hold the blame, to which Caelum spun around, "And of your own blame? Can you let go of yours?" The summer child demands to know. But the knowledge that Syn didn't even want the afterlife of warmth had Caelum's eyes narrowing; realizing what she was saying. "You think none would mourn your passing? You think none would wait for you in the great beyond. Are you truly that blind to those around you?" Caelum's voice was a whisper, "My brother and I would be overcome with grief." She argues. "Even now I cannot deny my parents held a soft spot in their hearts for your brand of chaos - my mother particularly." She argues. "Why are you so determined to only flirt misery? Why are you determined to lay with pain and regret?" Caelum leaned heavy against her counter, distracting herself with the small pastries on display.
"I don't even know what to say to you anymore." She finally admits.
Her gaze lifts, "I'm not certain you would listen, if I try."
"Speech"
Thoughts
@Absynthe
Notes:
over men and momma's and miller lite
well then, we should be friends
art by bingo
