A/N: I have to admit, I'm pretty surprised at myself too... Two chapters in one night? *smiles thoughtfully* There must be something in that fifth Harry Potter book (no, I do not own it, it's strictly J.K. Rowling's) that (enter shimmering sound and harp playing in the distance) *inspired* me... lol.. anyway, you know how it goes... so let's skip that part, and READ!!! (of course, I couldnt help but add in.. REVIEW!!!)
Chapter Twenty-One
Adela shook her head. How could it have gone this far? And how could she, the mother, not notice all this? Probably because she was drowning in her own worries about Charites, Adela thought, feeling more and more guilty by the minute. Why didn't she see this coming? Her close friendship with Charites, Charites leaving, it all added up to this happening.
You couldn't have known that it would go this far, a tiny but indignant voice shouted in the back of her head. But she should've, shouldn't she? What about all that talk about mother instincts and women intuition?
Adela covered her face with her hands and sat down, sobbing quietly. She looked at Alessia lying on her bed, still unconscious since three days ago when they found her in the forest. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If only she had taken the time to notice her family, then she might've seen it coming—the subtle questions about the castle's whereabouts, Alessia's sudden silence and nervousness.
"Mama?" A weak voice drifted through Adela's sobs and she stood up so quickly that her chair fell over. Alessia looked pale still, but better than the deathly white shade that was her face was when they found her.
Adela covered her face and rocked back and forth, as if to stop from seeing the images in her mind. Waking up feeling worried, almost to the point of panic; opening bedroom doors to see if everyone was alright, only to find her fears confirmed—Alessia was gone. At first she tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head, thinking frantically for excuses that contradicted the painful, sickening feeling in her stomach.
But when Alessia didn't return before lunch, Adela knew something was wrong. It wasn't like Alessia at all to leave without a note and not send someone to tell them she was alright. She knew that Adela would worry. Or maybe when she had been distancing herself from Mario, Alessia had thought that she didn't care about her anymore. Or maybe Alessia, like herself, finally saw her Papa for what he was and what he would do to save his life that she became wary of him—of her as well, since she was his wife. All these thoughts had rambled through Adela's head as she ran to the town, asking for help.
They had formed a search party and divided, looking everywhere for Alessia, looking for her in town, in the meadows, and finally in the forest. Adela had been part of the search team that found Alessia. It was nighttime when they found Alessia. She saw her child, ghastly white, lying limp on the forest floor, illuminated by moonlight escaping the cover of trees.
She had breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't hurt, as her eyes checked Alessia's body for the smallest cuts and bruises. She didn't need to. When her eyes fell on the trap clamped onto her daughter's leg, Adela had let out a small cry and covered her mouth with the overwhelming urge to vomit.
"Don't." The whispered word erased all the images away. Adela looked at Alessia, safe, lying on her bed. She smoothed Alessia's hair away from her face and smiled tremulously at her daughter. "Don't what?"
Alessia shook her head as if to say, stop pretending you don't know. "Don't blame yourself for... for all this." Her hand swooped down, gesturing to her and her injured leg, her voice getting stronger.
"But I—," Before Adela could explain, Alessia interrupted her. "No, Mama. You wouldn't have known. If you had, you couldn't have stopped me. My mind was made up. I had to see how Charites was doing—if she was still alive."
"Was?" Adela's voice rose with hope. Maybe... But Alessia shook her head again, although wincing at the nausea this caused her and Adela quicky took the cloth immersed in the warm water basin beside her and wiped Alessia's head.
"This should help." Adela frowned, seeing a shallow cut on Alessia's temple and started attacking it with the cloth. "As I was saying, no Mama. I still want to know how Charites is doing. However, seeing as how I can hardly walk, it would be a little harder to seek her out," Alessia joked, trying to prove her point as well as elicit a laugh from her tired looking mother.
It didn't work. Adela only frowned at another injury and dabbed the cloth against it, and Alessia wasn't sure if her mother even heard what she said at all or was just ignoring her, but was too tired to argue any more. In a few minutes she was asleep again, and the unnerving knot in the pit of her stomach kept Adela nervously near Alessia any time she could, wishing she would erase her fears and tell her she wasn't going to look for Charites again.
~~~
Leo smiled at himself as he looked at Aglaia. They were in the library and she was choosing a book for them to read since last time he had been the one who chose their book. He didn't know why she was so careful with the books, they wouldn't be useless even if they were creased or folded. Oddly enough, he found that he was liking these little quirks of hers. They were... comforting. They showed that she was human, just like everyone else, despite her almost surreal beauty.
The smile turned into a wry smile as he saw what book she chose. Romeo and Juliet. The last two times that he had chosen a book, he had been careful not to choose what they had read before, and was only relieved enough that Aglaia chose a new story the one time she had been the one to pick. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later, though later would've been better.
They settled down into a couch by the fire, and Aglaia started reading. Leo closed his eyes, remembering that day that he and Aglaia had read this story. He didn't know if it was just him, but their voices seemed oddly alike, the same soothing voice, different face. Ignoring his previous promise of forgetting Agla—her, Leo continued his thoughts in the garden three days ago. And yet... and yet that was not all that they had in common. Their uncanny love of reading, and that odd love for roses, and... Leo couldn't explain it, but there was something...familiar about Aglaia—not just the quirks and the voice, it was how she acted. But that was not completely true either. This Aglaia was more... down-to-earth, while Aglaia was more regal and held herself with a princess' air of royalty, or rather, a fairy's air of elegance.
But their faces... Then, remembering something, Leo shook his head in denial. It couldn't be. If she was Aglaia, then why doesn't she remember him? Or was it that he was such a worthless fling that she didn't remember him? Leo thought bitterly.
"Um, Leo..." Aglaia was looking at him and handed him the book. Leo, realizing it was his part to read, took the book from her. Instead of reading though, Leo couldn't get his rambling thoughts off of his mind.
"Are you a fairy?," He blurted out, only to see Aglaia's jaw drop in surprise.
Chapter Twenty-One
Adela shook her head. How could it have gone this far? And how could she, the mother, not notice all this? Probably because she was drowning in her own worries about Charites, Adela thought, feeling more and more guilty by the minute. Why didn't she see this coming? Her close friendship with Charites, Charites leaving, it all added up to this happening.
You couldn't have known that it would go this far, a tiny but indignant voice shouted in the back of her head. But she should've, shouldn't she? What about all that talk about mother instincts and women intuition?
Adela covered her face with her hands and sat down, sobbing quietly. She looked at Alessia lying on her bed, still unconscious since three days ago when they found her in the forest. It was her fault. It was all her fault. If only she had taken the time to notice her family, then she might've seen it coming—the subtle questions about the castle's whereabouts, Alessia's sudden silence and nervousness.
"Mama?" A weak voice drifted through Adela's sobs and she stood up so quickly that her chair fell over. Alessia looked pale still, but better than the deathly white shade that was her face was when they found her.
Adela covered her face and rocked back and forth, as if to stop from seeing the images in her mind. Waking up feeling worried, almost to the point of panic; opening bedroom doors to see if everyone was alright, only to find her fears confirmed—Alessia was gone. At first she tried to ignore the nagging voice in her head, thinking frantically for excuses that contradicted the painful, sickening feeling in her stomach.
But when Alessia didn't return before lunch, Adela knew something was wrong. It wasn't like Alessia at all to leave without a note and not send someone to tell them she was alright. She knew that Adela would worry. Or maybe when she had been distancing herself from Mario, Alessia had thought that she didn't care about her anymore. Or maybe Alessia, like herself, finally saw her Papa for what he was and what he would do to save his life that she became wary of him—of her as well, since she was his wife. All these thoughts had rambled through Adela's head as she ran to the town, asking for help.
They had formed a search party and divided, looking everywhere for Alessia, looking for her in town, in the meadows, and finally in the forest. Adela had been part of the search team that found Alessia. It was nighttime when they found Alessia. She saw her child, ghastly white, lying limp on the forest floor, illuminated by moonlight escaping the cover of trees.
She had breathed a sigh of relief that she wasn't hurt, as her eyes checked Alessia's body for the smallest cuts and bruises. She didn't need to. When her eyes fell on the trap clamped onto her daughter's leg, Adela had let out a small cry and covered her mouth with the overwhelming urge to vomit.
"Don't." The whispered word erased all the images away. Adela looked at Alessia, safe, lying on her bed. She smoothed Alessia's hair away from her face and smiled tremulously at her daughter. "Don't what?"
Alessia shook her head as if to say, stop pretending you don't know. "Don't blame yourself for... for all this." Her hand swooped down, gesturing to her and her injured leg, her voice getting stronger.
"But I—," Before Adela could explain, Alessia interrupted her. "No, Mama. You wouldn't have known. If you had, you couldn't have stopped me. My mind was made up. I had to see how Charites was doing—if she was still alive."
"Was?" Adela's voice rose with hope. Maybe... But Alessia shook her head again, although wincing at the nausea this caused her and Adela quicky took the cloth immersed in the warm water basin beside her and wiped Alessia's head.
"This should help." Adela frowned, seeing a shallow cut on Alessia's temple and started attacking it with the cloth. "As I was saying, no Mama. I still want to know how Charites is doing. However, seeing as how I can hardly walk, it would be a little harder to seek her out," Alessia joked, trying to prove her point as well as elicit a laugh from her tired looking mother.
It didn't work. Adela only frowned at another injury and dabbed the cloth against it, and Alessia wasn't sure if her mother even heard what she said at all or was just ignoring her, but was too tired to argue any more. In a few minutes she was asleep again, and the unnerving knot in the pit of her stomach kept Adela nervously near Alessia any time she could, wishing she would erase her fears and tell her she wasn't going to look for Charites again.
~~~
Leo smiled at himself as he looked at Aglaia. They were in the library and she was choosing a book for them to read since last time he had been the one who chose their book. He didn't know why she was so careful with the books, they wouldn't be useless even if they were creased or folded. Oddly enough, he found that he was liking these little quirks of hers. They were... comforting. They showed that she was human, just like everyone else, despite her almost surreal beauty.
The smile turned into a wry smile as he saw what book she chose. Romeo and Juliet. The last two times that he had chosen a book, he had been careful not to choose what they had read before, and was only relieved enough that Aglaia chose a new story the one time she had been the one to pick. He knew it was going to happen sooner or later, though later would've been better.
They settled down into a couch by the fire, and Aglaia started reading. Leo closed his eyes, remembering that day that he and Aglaia had read this story. He didn't know if it was just him, but their voices seemed oddly alike, the same soothing voice, different face. Ignoring his previous promise of forgetting Agla—her, Leo continued his thoughts in the garden three days ago. And yet... and yet that was not all that they had in common. Their uncanny love of reading, and that odd love for roses, and... Leo couldn't explain it, but there was something...familiar about Aglaia—not just the quirks and the voice, it was how she acted. But that was not completely true either. This Aglaia was more... down-to-earth, while Aglaia was more regal and held herself with a princess' air of royalty, or rather, a fairy's air of elegance.
But their faces... Then, remembering something, Leo shook his head in denial. It couldn't be. If she was Aglaia, then why doesn't she remember him? Or was it that he was such a worthless fling that she didn't remember him? Leo thought bitterly.
"Um, Leo..." Aglaia was looking at him and handed him the book. Leo, realizing it was his part to read, took the book from her. Instead of reading though, Leo couldn't get his rambling thoughts off of his mind.
"Are you a fairy?," He blurted out, only to see Aglaia's jaw drop in surprise.