A bath had cleaned the nightmare-produced sweat that drenched her body. She sat in the tub scrubbing at her arms and legs with a sponge while her mother tended to her hair. As gentle as she tried to be, Aiyana ignored the pinches and tugs as Agathea combed out the tangles in the rat nest atop her head.
Her brother had left though he did not say where he ran off to. She was admittedly curious to his departure, but she passed it off as needing space from her. If she could accomplish that herself, she would. Within her twisted a darkness that she had never felt before. So much hate and anger... and violence... all of it directed at the woman that took her life away from her. The mere thought of her sent Aiayana to the brink of chaos.
She wrenched the sponge in her hands tightly, her knuckles showing white. Her behavior did not go unnoticed since Agathea could feel the change in her daughter's posture, saw the muscles in her arms flex and tense. Finished combing out the final knots, she started to hum a little song as she divided the hair into sections and began plaiting her hair. Slowly Aiyana relaxed, her posture slouching a bit, her grip on the sponge less lethal.
It was a song from her childhood - long before she met the King. The words were never important, but the melody was slightly hypnotic in a way and always made her feel better. "It's been a while since I heard that," she told her mother.
"It's been a long time since I sang it," she grinned. Finished with the braid, she circled it around itself, pinning it along the way into a large yet loose bun. "Now why don't we get you out of there before you get all pruney." She stood to retrieve a robe. When she turned back to the tub, her daughter hadn't moved. "Aiya?" she called to her. "Are you all right?"
Her voice sounded distant, her mind elsewhere than in the room. "I'm not well, Mother."
"Well then," said Agathea, "let's dry you off and get you into some clean clothes. And then maybe we can get some food into you."
"I don't like how I feel inside," said Aiyana in that far off voice.
"I know," she said with sympathy.
Aiyana turned to look up at her. "How?"
Agathea knelt down beside the tub and cupped her daughter's face in her hands. "Because you are my child," she said. "A mother's heart always feels what's in her child's heart."
Staring into her mother's eyes, feeling the love the woman had for her as well as her own love for her in return, Aiyana's eyes filled with tears. "Oh I hope you don't feel this," she whispered. "I, myself, wish not to feel this. I would scrape it from me, pull it kicking and screaming if I could. But I fear I am changed."
It was true. Seeing her eyes so close, the familiar twinkle she had remembered was no longer there. She thought back to her earlier words about the dark place. Perhaps the darkness took her light from her. "You have not," she told her. "You are still my daughter." She smoothed the hair from Aiyana's brow and smiled. "You've been through an ordeal. You just need time to mend. Then you'll be right as rain." The older woman patted her cheeks, planted a kiss on the top of her head, and stood beside the tub - the robe open. Aiyana looked up at her mother who winked as she smiled at her. Then the younger woman stood in the tub, the room filled with the song of the droplets dripping from her skin back into the tub. Carefully she stepped out tub onto the cold stone floor and slid into the robe. Agathea then turned her around and tied the robe closed. Pulling the bow tight, her daughter's next words set her off-balance.
"I am not well," muttered Aiyana. "I can't let my girls see me like this." The look on her daughter's face was worrying. "I need to do something about this part of me that has become all... twisted."
"Your brother and I will help you," offered Agathea.
"You can't," said Aiyana. Confused, her mother asked Why not? Her voice grumbled slightly as she said, "This is mine and mine alone. No one is going to take that from me." The grumble grew low as she said, "No one will take from me ever again."
"What are you going to do?" her mother asked.
Her head turned slightly until she and her mother were face to face. Agathea watched as her daughter's eyes that used to twinkle with love and light shimmer with shadow and vengeance. "Tenebrea needs to die," she said coldly. Her mother's grew wide with shock to hear the Queen's name said aloud. "And I will be the only one to do the honors."
Her brother had left though he did not say where he ran off to. She was admittedly curious to his departure, but she passed it off as needing space from her. If she could accomplish that herself, she would. Within her twisted a darkness that she had never felt before. So much hate and anger... and violence... all of it directed at the woman that took her life away from her. The mere thought of her sent Aiayana to the brink of chaos.
She wrenched the sponge in her hands tightly, her knuckles showing white. Her behavior did not go unnoticed since Agathea could feel the change in her daughter's posture, saw the muscles in her arms flex and tense. Finished combing out the final knots, she started to hum a little song as she divided the hair into sections and began plaiting her hair. Slowly Aiyana relaxed, her posture slouching a bit, her grip on the sponge less lethal.
It was a song from her childhood - long before she met the King. The words were never important, but the melody was slightly hypnotic in a way and always made her feel better. "It's been a while since I heard that," she told her mother.
"It's been a long time since I sang it," she grinned. Finished with the braid, she circled it around itself, pinning it along the way into a large yet loose bun. "Now why don't we get you out of there before you get all pruney." She stood to retrieve a robe. When she turned back to the tub, her daughter hadn't moved. "Aiya?" she called to her. "Are you all right?"
Her voice sounded distant, her mind elsewhere than in the room. "I'm not well, Mother."
"Well then," said Agathea, "let's dry you off and get you into some clean clothes. And then maybe we can get some food into you."
"I don't like how I feel inside," said Aiyana in that far off voice.
"I know," she said with sympathy.
Aiyana turned to look up at her. "How?"
Agathea knelt down beside the tub and cupped her daughter's face in her hands. "Because you are my child," she said. "A mother's heart always feels what's in her child's heart."
Staring into her mother's eyes, feeling the love the woman had for her as well as her own love for her in return, Aiyana's eyes filled with tears. "Oh I hope you don't feel this," she whispered. "I, myself, wish not to feel this. I would scrape it from me, pull it kicking and screaming if I could. But I fear I am changed."
It was true. Seeing her eyes so close, the familiar twinkle she had remembered was no longer there. She thought back to her earlier words about the dark place. Perhaps the darkness took her light from her. "You have not," she told her. "You are still my daughter." She smoothed the hair from Aiyana's brow and smiled. "You've been through an ordeal. You just need time to mend. Then you'll be right as rain." The older woman patted her cheeks, planted a kiss on the top of her head, and stood beside the tub - the robe open. Aiyana looked up at her mother who winked as she smiled at her. Then the younger woman stood in the tub, the room filled with the song of the droplets dripping from her skin back into the tub. Carefully she stepped out tub onto the cold stone floor and slid into the robe. Agathea then turned her around and tied the robe closed. Pulling the bow tight, her daughter's next words set her off-balance.
"I am not well," muttered Aiyana. "I can't let my girls see me like this." The look on her daughter's face was worrying. "I need to do something about this part of me that has become all... twisted."
"Your brother and I will help you," offered Agathea.
"You can't," said Aiyana. Confused, her mother asked Why not? Her voice grumbled slightly as she said, "This is mine and mine alone. No one is going to take that from me." The grumble grew low as she said, "No one will take from me ever again."
"What are you going to do?" her mother asked.
Her head turned slightly until she and her mother were face to face. Agathea watched as her daughter's eyes that used to twinkle with love and light shimmer with shadow and vengeance. "Tenebrea needs to die," she said coldly. Her mother's grew wide with shock to hear the Queen's name said aloud. "And I will be the only one to do the honors."
