Oh, look, a clarification: In the production of As You Like It I was recently a part of the small scene between Oliver and Duke Frederick (III.i I believe) where the former is told to find his brother or he never gets his worldly possessions back was made very menacing. Nothing was ever shown but there was implied torture (it opened with a blackout and a bloodcurdling scream).
This little piece is based on an idea I had that Celia knew something happened to Oliver but it never really clicked that he was actually brutally interrogated.
How had she not noticed?
Standing motionless in the doorway to their bedroom she keeps a sombre vigil over her sleeping husband. His bare back lit softly in the moonlight. His scars harshly illuminated.
So many
Faintly discoloured spots, shadows of long gashes, indiscernible shapes etched into his skin with haunting permanence.
How had she not noticed?
Slowly, quietly, as not to wake him, she moves towards the bed and sits down. For a long time she does nothing but stare, memorizing the morbid constellation. He stirs and rolls over, gazing at her tear-streaked face with sleepy concern. Her lips part, no sound emerges.
How had she not noticed?
As if her quivering hand may re-open the wound she reaches out and lightly traces the line of a particularly lengthy cut that travels from the bottom of his shoulder blade all the way to his upper arm. His eyes darken and his breath catches. It doesn't hurt, but it's painful.
They look into each other for a small forever.
How had she not noticed?
She leans over and kisses him tenderly, saying what she cannot with words.
She continues running her fingers across the marred plane of his back, trying to heal every mark with a comforting touch; trying to soothe the sting of unimaginable memories that will remain long after the scars themselves have faded.
Soon, his breathing evens out once more and not long after, her arm droops and she too, drifts off.
How did I not notice? She wonders before peace overcomes the whirlwind of her mind.
Serenely, they rest, Moonbeams dancing on their sleeping forms.
Questions, comments, concerns, critiques?
Thank you for reading!