MEME: Futures
Jan. 5th, 2012 04:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
vestalstoneMy response for the Futures meme which holy crap, got very long. Yikes.
It had been five years before Marie came to the island. In that time Pierrette had remained as steady and constant as the tides, having grown only enough to still be the slightest woman on the island, still a waif with knobby knees and a thick wave of hair. She had been a woman for years, but she was still as chaste as her birth day, her lips and flesh pale and untouched.
She was leaving the Compound when she saw her; a flash of a homespun skirt and auburn hair. Very nearly does she simply turn away and walk, her heart having felt the sting of disappointment too many times. But then she sees, oh does she see. The woman’s cheekbones are high under her eyes, freckles softly kissing her nose, her tall willowy figure seeming to bend in the breeze.
Pierrette had run to her, throwing thin arms around her kin with all of her weight behind her. And Marie held her back, squeezing and laughing, her voice a clinking chime of bells. They laughed and cooed, clinging to one another, fitting into each others arms the way sisters should.
Only when she pulled back to admire her blood kin’s face did Pierrette see the glint in Marie’s eyes, sharp as a blade and mad with desire. A darkness rests there and not her lamb. When Marie smiled it was an ugly thing, wanton and saccharine sweet. She cooed, petting Pierrette’s dark locks and asking her so sweetly where she was, if the knight Jerome was near, if this was heaven and if so, how did her unbaptized sister came to be there.
“Are there men?” She asked, sticky sweet and husky. “Are there men for me to play with? Is Jerome here? Is he? I miss his touch. I miss his --”
Pierrette had pulled away then, staring at the demon wearing her sister’s skin with terror. Marie’s lips curved into a lecherous grin, the demon’s eyes dark and heavy. Pierrette ran from her, ran until she was home and hid for days.
------
Though she had been afraid, Pierrette watched Marie from afar. She watched her sneak into dark corners to let strangers touch her, she watched her walk to her new job at the Catscratch club where she would dance and take her clothing off. Everyday her heart broke a little more, and when she dared to bring cleansing herbs and wine to her poor lamb she would be mocked and laughed at, her hair petted as though she were a stupid child. Her skin crawled at the touch.
Pierrette prayed. She prayed to Ma, she prayed to the deity of the island. She spent days, knees sore and cold buried into the sand, her head to the ground as she begged for her sister to be cleansed, for the evil to be stripped from her heart. She never received an answer, only cold bones and salty skin, the sea winds to her back.
She left offerings around Marie’s home, a place near the main town with thick red drapes and heavy with the smoke of cannabis. She went undetected for nearly a week, until one day Marie stalked out, nude and angry, demanding that she leave her be. When a man came to the door to see, Marie turned to him and smiled, stretching her nude form for his eye. Pierrette had turned away from the sight, her heart heavy with shame.
She left her alone after that. Retreating to her own home and to the orchards for comfort. The apples were heavy on the trees, and she found strength in the sight of something fresh and new.
She lost track of time after that, and devoted her time to replenishing her herb storage, disappearing into the jungle for days at a time to be alone with the spirit of Ma. She searched for guidance, but all the found was an old snake, it’s belly clinging close to the earth, and Pierrette had sat with him for some time, wondering if he had any wisdom to share with her.
A week later Marie came to her at her home, her clothes decadent and clinging. She told her that she missed her. But then she yanked on Pierrette’s hair and snarled terrible things in her ear, about how she could find a man for her, and teach how she worshipped the wrong god. That what she needed was to be taught, and that she could be that teacher.
Pierrette had to slam her heel into Marie’s foot to get away, and when she did she hid at the compound, finding safety in the people who milled around day and night.
She went to a new god after that exchange, and when she found her she collapsed and placed her head on Aphrodite’s lap. The startled goddess stroked her hair when she begged for help and sighed.
“Oh, Pixie.” She said sadly. “You know I have no power here.”
“I’ve lost her.” Pierrette admitted, struggling to understand what had happened.
“Oh sweetie. You can try, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to help her. Maybe this is just what she wants.”
Somehow, Pierrette knew that couldn’t be true.
-----
A month later she found out Marie was pregnant.
She invited her not-sister to the waterfall where she first appeared, and wondered if she should have taken Marie to pool of Ma when they were children at home. She felt guilt for this, but otherwise dismissed the idea. Marie was not like her, she was more a child of Gilles than a child of Elen.
Marie lounged, only covered by strings and the barest amount of fabric. Her belly was still lovely and flat, no child to have swollen her belly yet. She kicked her feet and splashed, looking bored and irritable.
“Did you know that doctors can pull babies out?” She asked, her eyes glinting with fire. “They really can. They can take it before it gets to big and poof! No baby. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I wouldn’t have to stop dancing, and I wouldn’t have to raise some brat.”
Pierrette just stared, lost. Marie was gone, Marie was dead. This was not the girl who had been so excited for her wedding and to start a family. This was not the same girl who lay broken after being raped by the Burgundian. Like a phoenix something had been born in the ashes of her sister’s mind, but this creature held no beauty in her soul.
She didn’t remember how it had happened. But one moment Marie had been talking about some man she was sleeping with who liked to give her presents, the next there was a splash and Pierrette had her hands around the imposter's throat, holding the kicking, flopping body under the water. The auburn hair was a fan of red under the sloshing water, and she could see Marie’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth pulled back into an ugly snarl.
For a moment Pierrette was afraid, afraid that the larger woman would throw her off and attack her in return. But the struggles ceased and the water stilled, and from her place atop her sibling Pierrette could see Marie’s eyes fluttering open and shut, her mouth relaxing into a startled ‘o’.
Only when she was completely still, did Pierrette relax her grip. Pulling her sister up, she lay the soaked head on her wet lap, and ran her fingers through the tangled hair. Gone was the demon that sharpened her features, and left was a pale young woman, her features round and soft, an angel of Gaul.
“Shh.” She shushed, tears slipping down her cheeks.
She gently stroked Marie’s hair. “Shh. Everything will be better now.”
It had been five years before Marie came to the island. In that time Pierrette had remained as steady and constant as the tides, having grown only enough to still be the slightest woman on the island, still a waif with knobby knees and a thick wave of hair. She had been a woman for years, but she was still as chaste as her birth day, her lips and flesh pale and untouched.
She was leaving the Compound when she saw her; a flash of a homespun skirt and auburn hair. Very nearly does she simply turn away and walk, her heart having felt the sting of disappointment too many times. But then she sees, oh does she see. The woman’s cheekbones are high under her eyes, freckles softly kissing her nose, her tall willowy figure seeming to bend in the breeze.
Pierrette had run to her, throwing thin arms around her kin with all of her weight behind her. And Marie held her back, squeezing and laughing, her voice a clinking chime of bells. They laughed and cooed, clinging to one another, fitting into each others arms the way sisters should.
Only when she pulled back to admire her blood kin’s face did Pierrette see the glint in Marie’s eyes, sharp as a blade and mad with desire. A darkness rests there and not her lamb. When Marie smiled it was an ugly thing, wanton and saccharine sweet. She cooed, petting Pierrette’s dark locks and asking her so sweetly where she was, if the knight Jerome was near, if this was heaven and if so, how did her unbaptized sister came to be there.
“Are there men?” She asked, sticky sweet and husky. “Are there men for me to play with? Is Jerome here? Is he? I miss his touch. I miss his --”
Pierrette had pulled away then, staring at the demon wearing her sister’s skin with terror. Marie’s lips curved into a lecherous grin, the demon’s eyes dark and heavy. Pierrette ran from her, ran until she was home and hid for days.
------
Though she had been afraid, Pierrette watched Marie from afar. She watched her sneak into dark corners to let strangers touch her, she watched her walk to her new job at the Catscratch club where she would dance and take her clothing off. Everyday her heart broke a little more, and when she dared to bring cleansing herbs and wine to her poor lamb she would be mocked and laughed at, her hair petted as though she were a stupid child. Her skin crawled at the touch.
Pierrette prayed. She prayed to Ma, she prayed to the deity of the island. She spent days, knees sore and cold buried into the sand, her head to the ground as she begged for her sister to be cleansed, for the evil to be stripped from her heart. She never received an answer, only cold bones and salty skin, the sea winds to her back.
She left offerings around Marie’s home, a place near the main town with thick red drapes and heavy with the smoke of cannabis. She went undetected for nearly a week, until one day Marie stalked out, nude and angry, demanding that she leave her be. When a man came to the door to see, Marie turned to him and smiled, stretching her nude form for his eye. Pierrette had turned away from the sight, her heart heavy with shame.
She left her alone after that. Retreating to her own home and to the orchards for comfort. The apples were heavy on the trees, and she found strength in the sight of something fresh and new.
She lost track of time after that, and devoted her time to replenishing her herb storage, disappearing into the jungle for days at a time to be alone with the spirit of Ma. She searched for guidance, but all the found was an old snake, it’s belly clinging close to the earth, and Pierrette had sat with him for some time, wondering if he had any wisdom to share with her.
A week later Marie came to her at her home, her clothes decadent and clinging. She told her that she missed her. But then she yanked on Pierrette’s hair and snarled terrible things in her ear, about how she could find a man for her, and teach how she worshipped the wrong god. That what she needed was to be taught, and that she could be that teacher.
Pierrette had to slam her heel into Marie’s foot to get away, and when she did she hid at the compound, finding safety in the people who milled around day and night.
She went to a new god after that exchange, and when she found her she collapsed and placed her head on Aphrodite’s lap. The startled goddess stroked her hair when she begged for help and sighed.
“Oh, Pixie.” She said sadly. “You know I have no power here.”
“I’ve lost her.” Pierrette admitted, struggling to understand what had happened.
“Oh sweetie. You can try, but that doesn’t mean you’ll be able to help her. Maybe this is just what she wants.”
Somehow, Pierrette knew that couldn’t be true.
-----
A month later she found out Marie was pregnant.
She invited her not-sister to the waterfall where she first appeared, and wondered if she should have taken Marie to pool of Ma when they were children at home. She felt guilt for this, but otherwise dismissed the idea. Marie was not like her, she was more a child of Gilles than a child of Elen.
Marie lounged, only covered by strings and the barest amount of fabric. Her belly was still lovely and flat, no child to have swollen her belly yet. She kicked her feet and splashed, looking bored and irritable.
“Did you know that doctors can pull babies out?” She asked, her eyes glinting with fire. “They really can. They can take it before it gets to big and poof! No baby. Wouldn’t that be wonderful? I wouldn’t have to stop dancing, and I wouldn’t have to raise some brat.”
Pierrette just stared, lost. Marie was gone, Marie was dead. This was not the girl who had been so excited for her wedding and to start a family. This was not the same girl who lay broken after being raped by the Burgundian. Like a phoenix something had been born in the ashes of her sister’s mind, but this creature held no beauty in her soul.
She didn’t remember how it had happened. But one moment Marie had been talking about some man she was sleeping with who liked to give her presents, the next there was a splash and Pierrette had her hands around the imposter's throat, holding the kicking, flopping body under the water. The auburn hair was a fan of red under the sloshing water, and she could see Marie’s eyes squeezed shut, her mouth pulled back into an ugly snarl.
For a moment Pierrette was afraid, afraid that the larger woman would throw her off and attack her in return. But the struggles ceased and the water stilled, and from her place atop her sibling Pierrette could see Marie’s eyes fluttering open and shut, her mouth relaxing into a startled ‘o’.
Only when she was completely still, did Pierrette relax her grip. Pulling her sister up, she lay the soaked head on her wet lap, and ran her fingers through the tangled hair. Gone was the demon that sharpened her features, and left was a pale young woman, her features round and soft, an angel of Gaul.
“Shh.” She shushed, tears slipping down her cheeks.
She gently stroked Marie’s hair. “Shh. Everything will be better now.”
