Petals on the Water, a dishonored fanfic

Everyone has heard the myth of the Rhyme of the Rosewater Hag - either from a friend, a book, overhearing a stranger's conversation, everyone knows it.

In order to test whether someone is true, the person in question must recite her rhyme and then submerge her head into a standing fountain of water, covered with rose petals. Why rose petals? I don't know. Perhaps the Hag liked roses when she was alive... if she was ever alive. Most dismiss the tale of the Hag as a simple ghost story, but others suggest that the water, the petals, the rhyme are all parts of a ritual to summon a powerful spirit - some say a nameless one, some say a thrall of the Outsider, and others say it is the Outsider himself and that those who are taken, their necks crushed and their faces blue, are forever servants to the Outsider in the Void.

Everyone knows that the rhyme and gestures are harmless, though. There's always a friend of a friend who did the ritual and died, but everyone knows that it is nothing but a rumor. Everyone knows that they lie.

I was much too old to believe in any of that superstitious nonsense anymore - nearly twelve years old. Standing out by the pond, I released the mask from my hand, letting it fly over the surface. The crude mask plopped into the water, sinking slowly as the liquid seeped through the openings for the eyes and mouth. Shivering, I turned away from the pond, not wanting to look at it for another moment. I did not want to imagine the mask making its way toward the pond's muddy bottom, never to see the surface again. It only made me think of myself in the same situation. I sighed, believing that at least Mother would not be able to find the mask there. Then I would not have to go to the party. It had to work. I had braved going near the pond, after all - for the first time after all those years...

I ran away from the water, shaking.

That morning, the power went out, filling the house with shadows. It was the day of spirits, and everywhere the air was gray and moist - thick, as though the spirits really did roam our world that day, their ethereal bodies wisping through and around us with no care for physical boundaries. When night came - when the sun was gone - the spirits would take notice of us. Some would simply leave us alone, a few may have attempted to guide us or whisper secrets in our ears, but - as they Abbey said - the world is full of spirits, most of them malevolent. They seek to take advantage of us - to control us. To lead us astray, where we can wander into the arms of the Outsider. These spirits feed off of our goodness. So, every year, when the spirits arrived, we were forced to disguise ourselves, wearing masks and straying from our homes, mingling with each other in large crowds, so that we could not be picked off by the spirits waiting just outside the door. Only when the sun peeped up from the horizon and lit the sky were we safe. Only then could we take off our masks and go home.

I did not truly believe this, but I had to pretend or Mother would have made me attend sermons at the Abbey every week. I used to really think that I would be taken by spirits when I was younger, but as I got older - and bolder - I took my mask off during the night, closing myself off in a room and reading until the sun came up. Nothing happened to me. Nothing ever happened to anyone.

Of course, my idea did me no good, and Mother dragged me to the railcar, telling me that I would go to the party, mask or no mask. Mother, Father, and I all crammed ourselves into the seats - I, facing the back, and Mother and Father looking forward. It was not too long of a trip to the Beverlys' home in the Estate District, but still I found myself bored, having only Mother and Father to keep me entertained. I studied my parents, Mother's eyes transfixed on a small mirror she held in front of her face. She fixed a strand of stray hair here, touched a blemish there, all the time frowning. Father had already fallen asleep, his wrinkled face and gray head resting on Mother's shoulder, his breathing, ragged. Mother nudged him away, until he fell forward, waking for a second or two and then leaning against the metal of the railcar as he fell back into slumber. I sighed, watching mother dig through her handbag, pulling out a container of powder. She paid no attention to me, even as I stared, instead, focusing on her reflection as she powdered her face. Leaning forward, I tried to peek from one of the narrow windows, pressing my nose up against the glass.

We had already crossed Kaldwin's Bridge and made our way through the center of the city, the railcar screeching past the parliament building, which was deserted at that hour. The sun set behind us, turning the rest of the sky a dull gray, reminding me of events to come. I wiggled my toes, settling back down into my seat.

The Beverly Manor seemed to sprawl on forever as we approached it. Already, guests arrived to the party, their servants helping them from their railcars. They greeted each other outside, every one of them unfamiliar to me, whether or not they wore masks.

"I don't have to remind you to be on your best behavior, do I?" My mother eyed me, finally having surfaced from her compact mirror.

"Of course not, Mother. I will be good."

"You'd better be." Mother's face scrunched into a frown. "This is a very important event for your father and me. We have to make I good impression."

"I know, Mother," I replied, feeling my heart flutter. I clenched my fists and jaw as the railcar stopped in front of the main doors.

Cool air hit my face as a servant opened the car door, helping us out and guiding us toward the mansion.

As I stepped into the foyer, I found myself surrounded by glitter and perfume. Lords and Ladies made their way around the room, speaking with smooth accents as they clutched crystal glasses full of bubbling cider and wine in their hands. Music echoed off the gold-lined walls and sculptures of men and women clad in nothing but their marble skin.

"Marylou!" Mother followed my gaze, sharply turning my face away from a muscled male statue nearby. "Let's go introduce ourselves."

Mother took my arm, letting Father hobble along behind us. The Beverlys, wearing matching masks, stood by the master staircase, greeting guests, and Mother let go of my arm, taking Father's and guiding him - a bit hastily - toward the couple.

Mesmerized by the decor, I let my eyes wander again, losing myself in the molded panels and silken drapes. Soon, I found that I had been forgotten.

"Mother?" I called. A few guests turned to stare, looking away again when they lost interest. "Mother?" I said, again. I bit my lip, deciding to make my way into a crowded room that smelled faintly of food.

The masks around me seemed to create a strangeness - the atmosphere completely unfamiliar to me. Taunting eyes peeked from artificial skin. I had always imagined the masks of the aristocracy to be beautiful, full of feathers and sequins, but the faces around me were crude, disfigured. I scanned the room, attempting to spot Mother, or even Father, in this horde of well-dressed beasts, but one person blended into another and then into another. I found myself reminded of an ocean, waves crashing around me with no sense of direction or purpose.

I clenched my fingertips into my palms, swallowing the lump in my throat as I continued to search for a familiar face. Just one. I felt my cheeks grow hot as tears came to my eyes, and I blinked them away, even with my mask to cover them.

I am nothing but a little girl. A lost little girl.

Slumping forward and slowing my pace, I found myself thinking that I should simply curl in on myself and disappear as figures shuffled past me.

I looked up and caught a glimpse of the familiar triangles used for a cat's ears on the golden-haired head of a short figure. She wore a lavender dress, girls standing on each side of her, one - a darker blonde in a pink dress and a flowered mask to match - and the other wearing an unusually dark shade of green, her hair black and bobbed. A simple, white mask covered her face.

As the girl in the cat mask turned toward me, her face a glittering silver. I caught a glimpse of cruel amusement in her eyes.

"Do you know who I am?" she asked me. I nodded.

"You're Pollie Beverly," I replied, clenching my hands together. I took a deep breath, hoping that my voice did not waver.

"That's Lady Pollie to you... " she trailed off. "Well, will you not introduce yourself?"

"I'm Marylou Gardenar," I told her, adjusting my mask.

"I don't know your family," Pollie replied, putting a hand on her hip. "Why are you here, anyway?"

"We were invited." My voice was barely above a whisper. Pollie rolled her eyes, looking to her companions.

"Well, this is Danica Tash - " Pollie gestured toward the dark blonde girl. " - and this is Garnette Darby. Miss Tash and Lady Garnette to you."

"Hello," I said nodding. The two girls exchanged looks and giggled.

"Would you like to play with us, Marylou?" Pollie asked me. I nodded. "Well, first you will have to do something for us. Sneak out to the garden and get as many rose petals as you can. Here - " Pollie shoved a rumpled cloth napkin into my hands. "Put them in this and then meet us by the back stairway."

Outside, the garden curled and wove, like a mystery, flowers intertwining and creating a perfect blend of colors. I held my breath, mesmerized as I watched the fireflies sparkle above them, making the entire garden glitter with tiny lights.

Finding the roses was easy, and I reached into them, plucking their petals and placing them into the napkin. It seemed wrong to pluck the petals off something so beautiful, but what was I to do? I had to fit in with these girls. If I did not, then I would be...

I did not want to think about loneliness in this beautiful place.

The chirping crickets and delicate perfumes of the garden put me at ease for the first time since I had arrived, and soon I found that I had collected as many rose petals as I could.

I watched the silhouettes of various aristocrats pass by the windows, catching a bit of faint laughter coming from inside the manor. Taking a deep breath, I plunged back into the ocean, the rose petals tucked neatly away under my dress.

"I brought the rose petals you wanted, Pol - Lady Pollie."

"Shh!" All three girls shushed me.

"We wouldn't want the adults finding out what we're doing," Pollie whispered. "It's very powerful magic, you know."

"Who are we testing?" Danica asked. "I think we should test Garnette because she says that she didn't steal my necklace with the diamond, but she has one just like mine."

"It's mine," said Garnette.

"Quiet, you two. I'm thinking." Pollie stroked her chin, looking back and forth between the three of us. "I think Marylou should be tested." I felt my body go cold.

"Me? Why?" I asked. "What are we doing?"

"It's nothing too important," Pollie said. "We just want to get to know you better. See what you're afraid of." Pollie removed her mask, grinning. "What are you afraid of, Marylou?"

I opened my mouth, my throat dry. What was I to say?

"Do you mean to tell us that you're afraid of nothing?" Pollie asked me. Garnette and Danica giggled. Still, my voice caught in my throat. "What about the Rosewater Hag?"

I eyed the tub, watching the rose petals bob shallowly on top of the... water? I could not see the water anymore, but I knew it was there.

"I ... " I started. I could not show them my fear; it was only a bathtub after all. It was not a lake or a river. I would not sink into it. I would not... drown in a bathtub.

My entire body shook, and I realized that I had been holding my breath.

"Are you doing it or not?" Pollie said, making me jump.

"Yes... " I said feebly, attempting to find my voice. My attention turned back to the bath of rose petals.

"You don't really think she's going to get you, do you?" Pollie taunted. I heard the other girls giggle.

"No, I just... " I trailed off.

I realized that I had slipped my mask from my face and sighed. Nothing happened when I took my mask off, and nothing would happen when I stuck my head into the water. Nobody had ever been strangled or drowned by the Rosewater Hag, and nobody would ever be.

"Okay, I'm ready," I said nearing the bathtub. I placed my hands into the water, shivering as the cold liquid climbed its way up my arms.

"Say the poem, then put your head into the water, count to three, and then open your eyes," Pollie instructed.

"Okay," I said. The girls snickered behind me as I closed my eyes.

Petals, petals on the water
Tell me, tell me, where's your daughter?

Has she drowned beneath the mark?
Has she vanished in the dark?

Petals, petals on the water
Tell me, tell me, where's your daughter?

Has she trysted by the well?
Has she secrets left to tell?

Petals, petals on the water
Tell me, tell me, am I your daughter?*

I felt dizzy as I blindly lowered my face into the water. The rose petals tickled my nose, and I broke through them, burying my head under their light bodies. I could imagine them greedily snatching up the space I left in the bathwater. They covered me until I was hidden.

One... Two... Three.

With my head submerged, I assured myself that the rest of my body was still dry by wiggling my toes. I forced my eyes open, squinting and then closing them again, and after a few more attempts, I still could not bring myself to open them.

What if something was there?

If I opened my eyes and saw nothing but the bottom of a bathtub, I would feel very silly. I was being silly. What I was afraid of? Sticking my head into a bathtub filled with water and rose petals to stare at the bottom of the tub until my breath ran out?

But still, I did not want to open them.

I'll just lie, I figured. I'll say I saw nothing, and this will be over.

I raised my shoulders in order to pull my head from the water, but I stopped, feeling something at my back.

The Rosewater Hag's gentle caress? I though to myself. I started to rise again, but something pushed against me. My body tensed, and I tried again. Something touched my back and wrapped around my neck, and I made another attempt to raise my head from the water, this time struggling - but it was no use. I was being pushed back into the water, and I could feel my throat tighten. A bit of air escaped from my nose, and I willed myself to hold my breath longer, even as my lungs heaved. I tried to reach back with my hands to fight whatever pushed me down, but I found that I could not move my arms. Something tightened around my throat, and suddenly I heard a voice, echoing through my head. It was nothing but a whisper, and I could barely make it out, but as it grew stronger, the words became clear. It said my name.

Marylou... Marylou... My Marylou... My Marylou...

I was frozen, my eyes shut tight and my heart beating in my throat and ears, sounding like percussion as it played along with the echoing whispers in its song with no melody.

My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou, I heard over and over again, and soon it was joined by the sound of rushing bubbles. I could feel them bounce off my face as they made their way to the surface. It seemed as though something was in front of me. I imagined it, its face just an inch away from my own, grinning as I closed my eyes, completely oblivious. I tried to focus on the feeling more clearly; it warped and folded, pulsing with the beat as it expanded.

My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou...

The bubbles came from nowhere, rising up to hit my face again, surrounding me on all sides. A shadow formed on the inside of my eyelids, and I could feel the water pushing against my face as it moved, its pulse growing stronger.

My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou, My Ma-ry-lou...

My heart rate quickened with it, pulsing in my head, and the shadow moved closer, and the beat grew faster, and the whispering became louder...

Eyes.

I opened my eyes.

...and stared into the eyes of another.

I could feel myself falling.

I must get away. . Flee, my body told me. Flee!

I could not think anymore. All I could do is panic. I had to get away from the image. The claws touched me. They touched me, raking against the sides of my face.

"No!" I screamed, but no sound came out, and water rushed into my mouth and nose. I could not control my body anymore as it panicked along with me as I felt something wrap around my waist.

My lungs burned.

A screech - high pitched - sounded in my head...

...and then there was silence.

I truly believed I had died, my spirit rising from my body, floating free from the terror of the Hag, but not without the shadow of her memory.

But then someone pulled me back down.

I kicked my legs and arms up, pushing myself from the water to the chorus of numerous giggles, and I bolted upright, coughing liquid from my burning lungs. My eyes filled with tears as water and saliva dropped from my mouth and onto the marble.

When I collected myself enough to stop coughing for a bit, I looked up, spotting the girls surrounding me, like wolves, their faces red as they laughed uncontrollably. I eyed something in Pollie's hand - a mask, brown and ugly. Pollie held it up to her face, letting water drip from it and run down her arm.

"Oooooh," she moaned while the other girls laughed. "I'm the Rosewater Hag, come to drown you in the bath!" Pollie dropped the mask, her face reddening and her shoulders shaking.

I looked down at the bathtub, the water looking relatively undisturbed save a few rose petals sticking to the sides of the tub. My vision blurred. Warm salt water filled my eyes, and I looked away, willing my tears to retreat back into my eyelids. Digging my fingernails into my palms, I turned to Pollie, who looked back at me amusedly. She exchanged glances with her friends, as though they all knew my secrets - even the ones I did not know myself. Pollie stood over me - Lady Pollie Beverly, born at the top, and I...

I lunged at her, pulling at her hair and dress. The other girls gasped and Pollie screamed as I clawed at her face, tears running from my eyes. My lungs and throat still hurt, and all I could do was grunt as I lashed out, grabbing at her perfect curls and slapping her cheeks red.

I jumped as limbs wrapped around my waist, pulling me away, and I screamed, kicking at the figure behind me. I could hear gasps coming from nearby, and Lord Beverly dropped me to the ground.

Guests had gathered in the hallway outside the bathroom, and a figure stepped from the crowd, crossing the threshold.

My mother stood in front of me. Her mask gone, and her face white.

"I am - very - sorry for my daughter's behavior, Lord Beverly. I don't know what has gotten into her," she said, softly, her head bowed.

"It was her idea, Father. Really." I heard Pollie's voice from behind me. "We only did it because we felt bad for her. How were we to know that she would try to drown herself?" Pollie sniffled. "It was so scary, Father. I thought she had died. We were just trying to save her, but then she attacked me. She's nothing but an animal, Father. Please, don't make me play with her again."

I turned to eye Pollie who stood behind me. She turned to me, revealing a red face, wet with tears. I nearly groaned aloud as she sniffled again, gritting my teeth together to save myself from further embarrassment.

"It's alright, dear," Lord Beverly said, letting his daughter fall into his embrace. "You must have been so frightened."

Pollie continued to sob into Lord Beverly's shoulder, and I heard Lady Beverly shooing the party guests away.

"Please, head back to the parlor. The servants will provide you all with fresh drinks."

The guests slowly made their way back downstairs, some turning to glance at me, most of them scowling through their masks.

Lord Beverly picked Pollie up in his arms, taking her out of the bathroom, and Garnette and Danica followed. Lady Beverly turned to my mother, sighing deeply.

"I will have to ask you to collect your daughter and husband and then leave this house. I will not have some - some animal attacking my daughter." She glared at me, stepping aside to let Mother and I from the room.

Mother left wordlessly, and I followed.

Mother stayed silent for the entire ride home, and Father slept, his mask sitting crookedly on his face. The sun had not yet risen, but Mother and I did not bother wearing our disguises. My mind continued to wander back to my time under the shallow bath - though the girls played a joke on me, there was something a bit too real about the experience. I found myself wondering how they had managed to put that sound in my head - that deafening whisper.

The sky had turned a heavy gray, and rain had begun to fall by the time we arrived home. The streetlights flickered in the dark, illuminating the slick streets with a soft glow. At least the power was back on. Mother let herself out of the car as soon as it stopped, leaving Father and I in the backseat. She did not even bother to wait for one of the servants to arrive with an umbrella, and she made her way through the rain, her silk dress decorated with dark spots.

I shook Father's arm to wake him, and he climbed from the car with a grunt, letting the servants pull him up by the arms, and then hobbled to the door. I took my time, a servant walking alongside me as he held an umbrella over my head.

I kicked at the puddles that had formed on the cobblestone. They reflected the glow of the streetlights above, and I stomped in one, letting the light ripple in a wave - but as I lifted my foot, the puddle fell to blackness. A familiar blackness. I hurried to the door, leaving the servant behind.

Inside, Mother, Father, and I each retreated to our own rooms, and I took my time undressing, mostly pacing the room lost in my thoughts. Honestly, I did not want to sleep. The memory of being submerged under the water promised to bring me nightmares. Though the streetlights brightened the road outside, the inside of our house had only grown darker, the power still having not been fixed.

After a little while, I braved through the blackness of the hall, making my way to the bathroom. I lit every candle light I came across, until the hallway glowed unsteadily. At least I could see. I entered the bathroom, leaving the door open a crack to let the light in. Only a single candle sat near the sink, and I lit it with a shaky hand.

The mirror shone dim in the flickering candlelight, and I squinted, feeling for the wetness running from the faucet, its touch making me jump as though I were back at the mansion with my head and arms submerged in rosewater. Taking a deep breath, I cupped my hands, letting them fill, and bent my face toward them. The single flame reflected off the liquid in my hands, and once again, my throat grew tight - my breathing, restricted as my face neared the water.

The ridiculousness of my behavior ran through my mind - but only for an instant. No, to me the whimper struggling to escape my throat, the sinking feeling in my stomach, the haziness of my vision - all made sense. Far too much sense.

I parted my hands, letting the water hit the sink with a wet splat and brought my head up, gasping for breath. I could no longer control myself, letting my sobs escape and my face drip as I shuddered, taking a step backward from the sink.

My head snapped toward the door. A creak. From the hallway. My heart burst to life in my chest, and I struggled to hear over the muffled ring as my blood ripped its way through my body and straight to my head. Holding my breath, I listened closely. It was faint, but it was there - moving sluggishly, but unmistakably closer to the bathroom door.

shlip...

... the distinct sound of wet feet on a hard floor, their moist soles peeling themselves from the polished wood from heel to toe.

shlip...

Surely, nobody was still awake.

shlip...

The footsteps told me otherwise.

shlip...

I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath. Maybe it would go away if I stayed quiet.

shlip...

My throat contracted as my lungs begged, but I would not dare take a breath.

shlip...

shlip... SHLIP...

SHLIP... SHILP... SHLIP...

SHLIP... SHLIP... SHLIP... SHLIP... SHLIP... SHLIP...

As my throat gave way, letting my lungs fill with air, I could be silent no more; I let out nothing but a soft whisper...

SHLIP SHLIP SHLIP SHLIP SHILP SHLIP SHLIPSHLIPSHLIPSHLIPSHLIP

...but still, it found me.

The room went dark as a figure blocked out the light coming from the hallway, nothing but silhouette. A mysterious thing from the realm of the impossible.

"Mother?"

Her eyes looked at me coldly - though I could not see much, her face seemed... off. Her skin just a bit more pale than usual. Her smile just a bit too wide. Her eyes just a bit larger...

"Mother?" I repeated. My mother stepped toward me, putting her hand behind her to close the rest of the light from the room. The scent of stale water nearly overwhelmed me as my head grew heavy and my stomach churned.

"Mother?" I whispered. I could hear her breathing in the darkness, rhythmically, heavily.

"Daughter," she spoke. I flinched.

My eyes scanned the darkness in front of me, searching for my mother's slender form. She still stood close - but she was not familiar. Dread flooded back into me as the figure stepped closer penetrating the light of the single candle, shadows running over her distorted features - a crooked smile here, uneven eyes there - but still I looked, my mind not comprehending what I saw in front of me. I wanted to flee, but then again, it seemed silly to do so. Still, my heart pumped harder than it ever had before, the beating in my ears blocking out all reason.

It was my mother. It was supposed to be my mother. And yet, it wasn't. A shudder ran through my body. The thing grinned as a mother would to a child, but the holes in her face... no, her eyes... said differently, locking onto mine with unwavering clarity, as though they knew all my deepest, darkest secrets... my fear bringing them nothing but pleasure, a glimmer in those shiny pits.

"My Marylou," she whispered, reaching out for me. My heart jumped, and instinctively, I stepped away until my legs hit the coolness of the ceramic tub behind me. I shuddered, looking up at the figure like a caged animal realizing its fate, and I whimpered like one as well.

It was only then that I noticed a heavy form resting on each of my shoulders. A rustle of leaves. A hint of cool air on my neck. A hint of dampness on my skin. My flesh tingled against the fabric of my nightgown as the long form slithered forward, reaching out to either side of my face and entering my peripheral vision - nothing but creeping shadows - twisted and tangled, their many limbs bristling as they slipped against my flesh, each leaf moving with its own life, wriggling and brushing against one another. Teeth, hard and thin, tickled my skin, making me shudder as they slid over my delicate flesh, leaving it tingling and raw, their tips threatening to break the surface. Threatening to spill my blood.

As the child I always was, I instinctively looked to my mother, searching for her warmth that never was, but I could only see her face, all wrong in the dim light - eyes too dark, teeth too long, grin too wide - as those thick cords with their leaves for limbs, their slick skin, their piercing teeth, slithered from above my shoulders and wrapped themselves around my neck, filling my nostrils with the unmistakable scent of roses.

*"Rhyme of the Rosewater Hag" from Dishonored