Here's Aega's story, finally we know her motivation in doing what she'd done. Coming to the finale now, glad I still have you guys along for the ride. This chapter's longer, couldn't be helped. Enjoy
Rhonwen gaped, horrified by what she'd just heard. She was right, she'd known exactly what was going on, but some part of her deep down had still hoped that she was wrong. That part of her sunk into the deepest pit she'd even known and she felt as if she'd been punched in the stomach. Emile put voice to the feelings that she could not, which sunk her stomach even more as she realized without a doubt that these emotions were shared.
"Why?" he ask quietly, his voice sounding almost pleading, "Why go through all this?"
Rhonwen looked up, her large eyes watering as she took in Aega again. She was conflicted. One part of her, the cold and calculating part that she'd so recently become aware of, felt like she should be ashamed of her pity. This woman had cause hundreds of people suffering, both directly and indirectly. She ruined lives. She hurt Emile. She didn't deserve pity.
But the rest of her was stronger. She had been raised to think of motivations, to think of another person's side of an argument so as to better understand it. She would have to be a politician after all, since she was born a princess. And she had a naturally large heart. Caring for others had always been a part of her, something she was born with. She couldn't understand what could drive a woman to the extremes that Aega had gone to, but she realized that she couldn't hate this person either. This woman was unsound, injured, and had nothing in the world but the hatred she'd given herself. Something terrible, beyond her imagination, had to have driven her here.
Rhonwen felt herself begin to shake, though whether it was from her emotions or the adrenaline in her system, she couldn't tell. She tried to breathe, to focus on the things around her. She glanced from face to face and found that they weren't any help. Each was in its own state of confusion or disbelief. She felt, rather than saw, her twin brother coming up behind her and looked at him over her shoulder. There were tears in his eyes to match her own, and he walked over swiftly, taking her arm.
She looked back around and found that her eyes rested on Emile. Half of the group hadn't understood what was happening here yet, she could tell by their confused expressions. A few had gotten it and were staring in open shock, disgust present in some as well as they realized how they'd been used. But Emile. Emile looked ready to explode. His fur was standing up again, but this wasn't the beast she'd seen a few minutes ago. She could still see the logic in his eyes amid the anger. Knowing that he needed help, she pushed herself away from her brother and ran the two steps forward to Emile, wrapping her arms around his right upper arm. He twitched slightly at the contact, but it was gentle and careful, just as he'd always been.
"Emile?" she said cautiously, trying to meet his eyes.
At the sound of her voice, Emile's eyes shut tight and he pulled away from her, taking a step toward the witch. Rhonwen thought he lost it again and prepared herself to stop him, but his roar was fully controlled. Which made it much more frightening than the almost-animal sound had been in some ways.
"IF YOU HAD WANTED TO KILL YOURSELF," he bellowed agonizingly, "YOU COULD AT LEAST HAVE HAD THE GRACE TO DO IT YOURSELF! WHY BRING US INTO THIS?!"
Rhonwen swallowed as comprehension dawned on the few who hadn't gotten it yet, and their faces shifted to match the others. She cringed as a few stepped back from Emile, terrified by his outburst and afraid he'd lose himself again. But Rhonwen stayed where she was, a step away from Emile's arm. She had to be here for him, had to stop him if he started to turn away again.
A few moments passed and the witch did not move or speak. Rhonwen could feel the tension building, could see Emile's fur standing higher with each moment. But when he roared again, it took everyone by surprise with its thundering volume.
"WHHYYYY!" he bellowed louder than she'd ever heard, making everyone in the room jump again, including himself.
The room was silent again, but this time Rhonwen felt a different kind of tension in the air. Emile sagged after that last roar, his fur going limp and his face anguished. Rhonwen stepped forward and grabbed his arm as he sank down to stabilize himself with his hands on the stone floor.
"Why did you make me do this?" he asked quietly, sounding like he was talking to himself more than anyone, and Rhonwen saw the tears flowing freely into his cheek fur.
Silence greeted them once more, and Rhonwen pressed herself against Emile, trying to comfort the guilt she knew he was feeling. This wasn't his fault, this was Aega. This was a sick woman who provoked the worst in everyone simply by being. The cold side of her gained some strength at seeing Emile in this kind of pain. Hadn't he suffered enough? Hadn't they all had their fair share by now? What gave her the right to cause them this pain? She turned her face away from Aega and pressed it against Emile's fur. Rhonwen was certain she wouldn't answer, but just when she thought that Aega had been struck mute by spite, her voice startled the room again.
"You should know better than anyone," she said simply.
Emile's entire body felt like it was on fire with guilt. He'd nearly killed a woman. Had she been any ordinary woman, he knew he would have killed her with that blow. He had lost control and all his worst nightmares were staring him in the face with those dead green eyes. It didn't matter to him if this person was innocent or guilty, it wasn't his to decide if she deserved life or death. He had allowed himself to be manipulated into doing something terrible, something beastly, and he knew he'd never be able to see himself the same way again.
This woman refused to answer his question. He'd begged her, pleaded to know why she would do this to him, why she would ruin him this way. And now she was silent, ignoring him. He didn't matter to her, and never would. Hid questions, his curse, the fact that she'd just tried to make him do something horrendous, or the fact that he almost did. Nothing mattered to her at all.
"WHHYYYY!" he screamed, letting everything in him pour out in that one simple word.
Then, having used the last of his emotional energy, Emile sank to the ground. As he reached out his hands to catch himself, he felt Rhonwen grab his arm, and looked down at the floor, not able to stand those passionless eyes any longer. He felt Rhonwen squeeze his arm, holding him as tightly as she could. He didn't dare look back at her, though he could tell by the way she pulled at him that she wanted him to. Shaking now, and with barely any control left, he muttered the question he really wanted an answer to.
"Why did you make me do this?" he mumbled, his words shaking as he silently sobbed.
He felt Rhonwen's face press into his fur and closed his eyes. Everything was silent. He'd known that she wouldn't answer, why should she? They didn't matter to her any more than insects, so what worth had their questions or torments? But then the silence was broken, and he started up in surprise.
"You should know better than anyone," Aega said simply, and Emile noted with some alarm that she moved as she did.
Aega pulled herself up to sit on her heels, smoothing her dress over her knees absently. She seemed unsteady, which Emile noted with disgust once more for his actions. But she was ever graceful, and when she looked up there was something more in her facial expression than bland detachment. Strangely enough, there wasn't hatred. It was more of an understanding, an evaluating look that seemed to see right through him. Emile shuddered.
"What do you mean?" he asked, his face and tone hardening slightly.
"You know what it is to be cursed," Aega answered.
The room sat in silence for a few moments longer, but it was a terrified silence now. Aega was not sitting still as a statue anymore. No, now she was rocking back and forth and humming what sounded disturbingly like a Greek lullaby, her face smiling where it still could and her arms holding around her ribs, as if she was trying to comfort herself. His friends were tense around him, and Emile could feel Rhonwen's little hands gripping his fur like a security blanket. Somehow, even this simple motion was terrifying coming from Aega. She radiated insanity unlike anything he'd ever seen.
"What did you look forward to most in life when you were a child, Emile?" Aega asked, now sounding politely curious, at odds with her surroundings entirely.
Emile's eyebrows furrowed and he just stared at the witch. This time, she didn't seem to require a prompt to keep going.
"You weren't like other little children," she said on, tone almost fond, "You were different. While your friends here were all looking forward to their next birthday party or to becoming kings or queens, wives or husbands, what were you wanting? You, more than anything, wanted to be free."
She paused there and looked into his eyes with conviction. Then she continued, as if she'd seen what she needed to see.
"You wanted to have a normal life," she said, now sounding curt, "You wanted friends. You wanted family who didn't look at you like you were some kind of monster, or worse, something too fragile to touch. You were a child with a curse, and nobody could touch you, or you might break."
Emile felt his breath catch in his throat. Aega didn't even pause this time, she just kept going.
"I was that child, you know," she said, her eye's getting a distant look, "I was cursed. I didn't know it yet, of course, but I was different. I was a porcelain doll, a plaything too fragile to be really attached to. And when Circe grew tired of playing with me, I was nothing at all.
She'll have told you that she was protecting me, that she wanted only the best, but the truth is that I belonged to her. I was made to be her company when she was lonely, not her child when I was. I was alone on that island for a century. She would show me things, teach me magic when she wanted to play at being the wise mother. Then she'd leave and say I was too thick for her efforts if I made the slightest mistake.
So I figured out how to learn for myself, took what I needed to survive, and used a transportation spell I'd seen her use before. I ended up exactly where she had gone, and knew that she'd track me there. So I ran. I ran for two days. Then I realized that she wasn't chasing me. I was curious about what was going on, if my absence had her worried, so I looked through the mirror to see if I'd hurt her too terribly. She was happily walking around the garden. She didn't even notice that I was missing, I know because the note I'd left on my table in my chamber was undisturbed when I checked it. After that, I lost some of my hope. Circe was not coming for me, and I certainly wasn't going back to her. But I was alone in a strange world that I had no idea how to handle. I wandered into the woods, trying to find a cave or a berry bush. Instead something found me.
She seemed so kind, at first. Maleficent was everything I'd always dreamed of in a friend or a mother. She taught me things, showed me what money was and how I could use it. And she taught me that nothing was for free, that every action has a purpose and that nobody does something for nothing. She said she would show me more, but first she'd need something from me in return. I offered my services for a decade, and she accepted them easily. I didn't mind going with her everywhere, even when it was dangerous. Because even when she was cruel, Maleficent knew I was there. My mother came looking for me after three years, but by that time I'd grown to love Maleficent so much that I refused her offer to go home. That ship had sailed, or so I thought.
After my decade was over, I offered to stay for another, but Maleficent refused. She said it was the way of a fey never to accept the same payment twice for a favor. I was lost without her then, not as badly as when I'd first arrived but lost all the same. I stayed in a little mortal village, making my living as a fortune teller. It was there that I was found again, and in my desperation I dived into the person who found me. His name was Hogarth, and I loved him. I clung to him when he came by, showing off how skilled he was with the hunting bows he made and sold. I clung to him when he asked me to marry him, saying our businesses could help each other. I clung to him when he sucked my business dry with his frivolities and traveling. Yes, I even clung to him when he had a bastard son in France, who he would send money to support and sometimes even travel to see.
I was impregnated by him and I bore the child. She was a beautiful child, with her father's black hair and blue eyes. Her father named her Gothel, a name from his family, and I accepted it readily. I thought that now, now I had a family. There was a husband and a child that belonged to me, even if he did wander. But I should have known you can't trust anyone, not even your blood."
She paused for a moment and Emile blinked. Nobody had moved through her story, how could they? She was telling exactly what he had wanted to know, but now he wished more than anything that she would stop.
"He left me," she sobbed out at last, her chest shaking as she forced herself onward, "He went to his other child in France, because it was a boy and the other had been more interesting than I was. She was the forbidden fruit, and I was the wife. I broke that day, broke into a thousand pieces that could never be fixed. I was angry. So, I called an old friend to come to my aid. Maleficent came when I summoned her, and I was overjoyed that she would still care enough about me to do so. I asked her what I should do about my anger, and she said I should do nothing. She would give him back what he had given me, that I would only need to settle the payment with her first. I told her that she could have my knife, which I'd taken from my mother's set. She said she would take that and my daughter for five years as she'd had me for ten, which I accepted. She made it sound so generous, saying she could take her for ten. Then she left.
The next day I found a newsletter from France on my front doorstep that described a brutal, savage killing committed by a mysterious felon with a knife. The victim's description matched Hogarth perfectly, down to the cleft on his chin. At the bottom was a message in luminescent black ink, in perfect lettering, saying, 'Five years.'
I cried for weeks after that, knowing that I had sentenced the man I loved more than anything to death but unable to take back my actions. I couldn't even bring myself to blame Maleficent. She only did what fey do; she fulfilled her bargain in the worst possible way. I was to blame. I should have known better."
Her sobs overtook her for a moment, and Emile felt he strangest urge to go over and comfort her. She was utterly pathetic, all her grace now channeled into remaining seated. After a few moments she continued again, and Emile's heart rent for her even further, as her changing moods only made her insanity more apparent.
"She was good to her word, as always," she said, a lighter, almost happy tone coming to her voice and her sobs stopping instantly, as if by the flip of a switch, "She brought my daughter back after five years. She'd grown, and was terribly beautiful a child. And she knew it, too. She'd done Maleficent's bidding, as I had, but she was a child and so much more moldable. She'd done something to earn back the knife from the fey, and I dared not ask her what it was. I couldn't touch it, knowing what it had done. My Gothel saw this and would sometimes show it to me when she wanted her way. But I convinced myself after a while that I didn't care. I was just grateful to have my little child back. But she didn't stay little for long.
In a decade she was almost as tall as I was, with flowing curls and a dangerously flirtatious demeanor. Not that I wouldn't want her around men, no, my little girl could do anything and everything she wanted, but she was not one to fall in love. She'd learned to use, to own, from Maleficent and it was a lesson she never forgot. Before I knew it, she owned me as much as any of the men she led on.
When I realized this, there was nothing I could do. I didn't know how to do anything else, so I let myself be owned. My little girl was so pretty, so dear. I knew that she at least cared about me, because whenever I told her I loved her, she said she loved me more. But my little girl grew when I did not, and so we had to move from village to village. Eventually it was I saying that she was my mother, and not the other way around. She started to have problems with her breathing when she got to seventy-three, and I panicked. I couldn't beg another favor of Maleficent, I knew what the last favor had caused, so I did something I thought I'd never do. I returned to Circe.
She chastised me for not returning home, and for the first time in a long while I felt like the younger party again. It was comforting, in a way. I begged her to help her granddaughter, trying to buy her assistance any way I could. Apparently my suffering was payment enough for her, because she gave me a Sun Lily from her garden and told me she would be content never to see me again. I obliged her."
The bitterness in her tone when she spoke of her mother was like a stab in the heart to Emile. He thought of his own mother, who taught him to read and comforted him when he'd fallen ill, and almost became ill on the spot. How could a person become so twisted, that the one who'd brought them into the world could become an object of hatred? And what monster was Circe that she could bring that hate on herself? Emile closed his eyes and his ears flipped back, not wanting to hear any more. But Aega kept talking mercilessly.
"I realize now that I should have let her die when it was her time," Aega said, her tone getting flat, "My little girl, my Gothel, grew more domineering and assertive every day. She had many affairs, all of which ended badly for the man when she moved to the next. More than anything she reminded me of her father, and I loved her for that just as I'd loved him. But one day the flower was taken. I used the mirror to find where the flower had gone, but instead of a lily it showed the face of a newborn baby. Gothel asked the mirror where the child was and it showed the nursery of the royal palace. Then she left, saying she'd be back with answers.
I waited for hours before she finally returned. She had the baby with her when she did, and for a moment I was horrified. But then she handed me the child and told me to take care of it until it was old enough that it didn't need more than the attention she could give it. It was so rewarding to have a baby to care for again that I forgot that another mother did not when she should have. After all, that woman was mortal and would die quickly, but this was a Sun Child. As long as her hair was uncut, she could live forever. She would be another of us, keeping Gothel alive and becoming my granddaughter, something I'd always dreamed of."
Emile felt the little hands tighten on his fur and lifted his hand to cover them. Aega didn't even act like she knew who the baby was to Rhonwen, but both she and Emile knew she did. She'd have kept track of whose child was whose. He squeezed her hands lightly to comfort her as the story went on, knowing the next part would be hard for her to hear.
"When the child was three, Gothel took her back and said that she must be kept away from everyone but herself until her parents and the rest of the kingdom had stopped looking for her, probably two generations or so. I felt her loss keenly, but I knew that my daughter loved the child too, in her way. She would never have been so possessive of something she didn't love, after all. The child grew my daughter grew closer to her, sometimes visiting me to tell me how they fared. I lived modestly by myself, yearning for the day when two generations had passed and we could be a family again. But that never came, did it?"
At this, Aega's eyes shifted from Emile to Rhonwen, their expression sad and bitter. Emile's hackles rose a little. He didn't like her looking at Rhonwen, not when he could almost smell her insanity. But it was only a glance, and her eyes returned to him with a small smile, her voice detached.
"You know the rest of that story," she said simply, "I won't bore you with those details, but I will say that I broke my word and returned to Circe again. She'd helped before, after all. But she turned me away, saying that it was well past time for the 'bitter little seed' to die. I'd know that for years, of course I had known that, but my Gothel was my purpose in life. I needed my little girl. So I summoned Maleficent. She said she would help me, in returned for me giving her my granddaughter for twenty years."
Rhonwen gasped and Aega looked over to her again, smiling slightly in a detached sort of way, like one observing a curious bird. Emile almost growled, but she didn't pause for long.
"I made the deal, telling her she'd have to take the girl from the palace," she continued, "Maleficent said she'd return within a five days, that there was something she needed to handle involving a slight years ago. I waited those five days, each day becoming heavier. When the sixth day came without her arrival, I knew she was gone. She was a fey, after all, they cannot disobey their word or they die. So all my hopes of ever having my little girl or my granddaughter returned to me were gone. I was alone again."
Emile could feel Rhonwen chest heaving silently as she cried silently, and felt an ache in his own heart that dug deep. Somehow, he knew what was coming next.
"That was the day I tried to 'kill myself', as you say," she said, moving suddenly to pull a long, silver blade from the back of her corset and smiling as a few of the others raised their swords, "I used my daughter's knife that she'd won back from Maleficent, the knife that one of them had used to kill my husband, and I slit my own throat. However, just when I thought I was finally free, the cruel fates had to assert their control once more. The Sun Hounds came out of their hiding. I had never seen them before, so I hadn't known that they'd been following me all along. Maleficent had probably known, but she never told me. Probably thought I would panic and try to run away before my service was up. Anyway, their damnable captain, Daemon, touched his nose to my throat seconds after I cut it and it was healed. If I were to repeat the action now, he would repeat his, just as we did then. It is his sworn duty to make sure that no one without permission should kill me. When he told me this, I went to Circe and asked her permission, which she refused me, saying it served me right to live on when I'd lost everything and that ungrateful children should expect no better."
She grew silent and the room followed her example. Nobody spoke or moved, all just stared at the witch with her grotesque injury and dead eyes, her beauty now seeming a mockery of her very existence. She was like an apple rotted at the core. Finally Aega spoke again, looking around the room as if surveying for volunteers.
"So, now that you know why, as you so eloquently put it," she said, her voice all detached sarcasm now, "Will one of you do the job you came here for? Or do you need further motivation?"
Thanks for reading, the last chapters are at hand.