The Bachelor and the Bride
Disclaimer: I own neither POTO by ALW nor the "Bachelor and the Bride" by the Decembrists.
She had killed it. Not it, but him. No, not him, only the thing that would forever physically remind her of him. At least now, her husband would be free of the reminder and his happiness would once again flood the house with the light that had dissipated as of late. Yes, she thought giddily, he will be so happy to be rid of the thing that he shall make me blissfully unaware of the darkness that surrounds me! Of course, she was mad.
Now, she stood drenched in the ruining rain and watched the plain pine box drift away from the dock, sinking much more slowly than she had wished. She did not cry, but the part of her mind that missed sanity wanted to do nothing more than that. But she could not force herself to cry for that thing.
When they had discovered Raoul would not be able to father an heir, they had both cried, and then fought, as they had never done before. Of course, she had flown to the only savior she had ever known. She could hardly recognize herself in retrospect as she lured him into bed. Granted, she had not been disappointed for her efforts, in fact, the night had been filled with such passion, she had feared what would happen if she did not flee his embrace as soon as possible. When he read her eyes, he had looked at her coolly. "You're welcome, Christine. Any time you feel the need for a pity fuck, I will happily oblige."
She had drawn away in shock at his words, and his ability to read her most guarded thoughts. "I must return to Raoul; his name would be ruined, and I love him too much for that."
He had not even turned to look at her as he responded, "You may leave without saying anything, and you may lie to yourself, Christine, but do not lie to me. I know that you leave because you are afraid of us. I had hoped you had realized what we could be, but I fear you will always be that stupid, innocent child. Good day, Madame. I shall send a servant with new clothes for you."
With that, he had disappeared from her life. Well, all except a small part of him that she had carried for nine months. When the time had come, her husband could not stand to be in the house, let alone the room, when that thing would crawl out of her womb. In fact, she was certain he was disappointed so many sheets and towels would be ruined. He had still called a doctor and some nurses to tend to her during the labor, and hired some help specifically for the newest, and unwelcome, addition to the family. When the doctor had smiled at her exclaiming, "Well, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever had the pleasure of seeing and hearing!" she had been certain even the walls had laughed at the cruel twist of fate.
God, how she had wanted the thing to be ugly. Then, she could hide it and love it like another deformed child had never been loved. She would be able to prove through it that only imperfect humans, not her precious, beautiful God, could create a soul as dark as the man she had once known.
With the astonishment of the doctor, those hopes, and all hopes of happiness in the future were shattered. She could imagine the little spawn running through the mansion's sunlit halls, singing with the magic of his father and the majesty of her mother. Singing to anyone who would listen, to the heavens that never frowned when she was around. Singing with all of the pleasure she had stolen from her mother. Of course, her countenance and brilliance would make her the most sought after bride in all the circles, and she would find an equally enthralling man and true love. True love that her mother could never achieve. But Christine and Raoul would have no choice but to play the proud parents in public, and drown themselves in lonely misery in private.
She had snapped from her ruminations, and thanked the doctor. For the rest of the day, she refused servants, and simply stared at the bastard. When she heard Raoul return, she did not expect him to come see the child, and had not been proven incorrect. That night, a darkness settled over the house, but the child did not notice, and only seemed to giggle throughout the night. The next day, she had smothered it with a pillow, and told Raoul it had not survived the night. He eyes had not judged her, and he had gone to his study while she had gone to bury it.
And so she stood, alone as ever, watching her first-born drift into a peace she would never know.
"Look at the water," a voice ordered from behind her, "It cannot stand the weight of the body of our daughter. You have marred so many things in your life, Christine." She turned to the man that she had denied so many things. He positively exuded unkempt fury as he stormed to her, clasped his bruising hand about her neck, and made her look at the wrinkled water. "I saw her, girl. We both know what she would have been. Look inside yourself, and you will see why you could not bear to see her come to fruition. When you finally see it, know that your actions have forever sealed off your escape from your viscomte and your mindless social circles. My heart is hardened to you now." With that, he threw her to the ground and the bachelor stormed off into his loneliness, leaving the bride in her madness.