Tendrils
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_"But I love you Miss mellia!"…
The rain came down angrily, soaking her tunic and her hair. Mellia didn't feel it really. She was too busy... listening. She felt tired, and angry, and alone, but that wasn't a new feeling.
The same little voice in her head was back again. It was the same one that had always agreed with her father, her husbands...
"No one could love you. You aren't worth loving. But owning you might be fun..."
She tilted her face up to the rain, trying to feel it run down her skin and only feeling a light pressure when the drops pattered down. She was no one's property.
Her thoughts turned to that child, the cleric of Sune. Such advice... "love is worth dying for" Is it worth being scarred? being beaten? being scared to talk to anyone?
Another voice had started to talk to her. It was smaller, creeping in when she was in that soft spot between waking and sleep. "Would it be so bad? You lived through it before, twice even. He loves you, and you think you love him" She slapped at that voice, squelcing it down into the depths of her mind.
"No! I won't be... a plaything again." The words lacked conviction. They felt hollow, empty, just like her.
She had watched the cleric and her love walk away, utterly sure of their place in this world. Love could fix anything, cure anything. She wondered if that annoying smile would be so firmly affixed to the girl's face if her man started experimenting on her fair skin with knives and flame. Or if she'd think so highly of him if he had the same jealous streak that some did, suffocating her. If she was just a plaything. In the long run it didn't really matter though...
Mellia sat by the south gate, rocking back and forth in the rain, just thinking about these things. Another voice sent a tendril of doubt into her mind. "Why should you be here m'dear... It's not like you're willing to be loved"
"No, it's beingownedbeingownedbeingowned I don't LIKE IT!!"
The voices reached a fever pitch, the tendrils of insane thought interweaving and caressing. Her hands twitched as she lay on her back, raindrops falling into her eyes_
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It wasn't raining for once. The perpetually wet Nars was fairly sunny, conflicting sharply with Mellia's mood. She felt no joy, but she felt no sorrow either. She could only guess that this wave of apathy would go away after the wedding.
A wedding. Again. She remembered standing in front of the kindly cleric with Rowen, never guessing how their love would diminish and turn into something hateful and degraded. A bit further back. The rushed ceremony with Alruc in the dead of night, her legs still wet and sticky with her virgin's blood. She smiled with no emotion behind it. Marriage wasn't generally very good for her.
She couldn't think why she had abruptly asked Sam to marry her without any introduction. Mellia bit her lip, tasting an acrid drop of blood. It seemed even less likely that he would of said yes. But he had, and she was now engaged to the one man that she loved and feared the most.
What a wonderful mix up… She thought harshly to herself.
She closed her eyes.
I just want peace. I want a home, and… The list ended rather abruptly. She couldn't even tell if she wanted to be with Sam after all.
Not that it made much difference. She wasn't going to back out of this committment, but she wished that she could find some joy, somewhere within her, for Sam's sake, if nothing else. But this calm detachment was something. The unpleasant voices in her head weren't nearly as violent, as clamoring.Mellia smiled a little. The peace would come after the wedding. Then… Then she'd find some peace...
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::reads the story and feels his heart being wound up like a wet towel and squeezed for tears::
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grabs the popcorn
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((Wow, nice view into Mellia's head. Can't wait to read a bit more))
