Fight Like A Girl
Chapter 13
Unrepentantly Foolish
AN: Well, here's the next bit. I'm afraid I may have made some of the girls too mean or too physical, but, well, girls can be cruel.if I keep going I'll give away the chapter, so just suffice to say, if someone can tell me if I overdid it, I'd be grateful. Thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter. 'Me', as always I'm glad to hear from you (, Flailersrule, I've wanted to put Machiavelli in with the girls, so last chapter was my chance. I'm glad you liked it. Raven: Queen of the Rogue, I'm glad you liked the Shakespeare bits, I try to put them as fun extras if you read it, but have people who haven't read it still be able to enjoy the story, so I'm glad that worked out. As for your advice about changing the summery, it's well-taken, and I'll consider changing it to something more exciting at the very least (I'm horrible at writing summaries, I'll admit), but I'm afraid if I changed the summery to make it seem as though the story was about another character, then the Delia fans wouldn't see it (I'm sure there's Delia fans out there somewhere.or at least I hope there are ~_~), and I'd alienate or annoy the people who read it expecting something else (it's nice of you to say that they wouldn't mind once they started reading my story though). And also, part of the point of the story is to make Delia, if not one of the 'well loved' characters, at least a character that people understand and can identify with. Still, I'll think about making a better summary. And of course, thank you to everyone that reviews. Wow, this is a ridiculously long Author's Notes. Sorry about that. On to the story.
***
Shortly after that conversation, I recall the girls and I chatting in the sitting room, as we were wont to do on many leisurely afternoons and evenings. As the setting sun illuminated the group, casting a pleasant glow over most of us, the orange light caught Cybil's eyes, and for a moment she looked monstrous. She glanced quickly at me, her laugh no nonchalant and airy that I knew she had to be planning something. Then those hellfire-lit eyes landed upon a girl sitting quietly on the outskirts. She was new to the Cloisters. Her name was Carin, although I don't recall her family. She was not pretty. Her build was far too sturdy for a maidenly figure. Her hair was black, and her skin was a shade too dark to be purely Tortallan. Her every movement was tinged with fear, and she sat in a cringing manner, as though she knew she didn't belong here. In short, she was a ready victim.
"Carin," said Cybil, her smile pointed and dangerous.
"Y-yes?" answered the girl, starting at the unexpected address.
"What would you like to be in your dowry?" asked Cybil, bringing her into the discussion of the group. For a moment Carin looked hopeful, as though she would be accepted by the girls, as though she truly believed that Cybil was extending a welcoming hand. Cybil smiled in what was meant to be an ingratiating manner while her eyes flashed with the dying sun.
"I- I would truly love a nice blue gown. A really bright blue, not pale and pastel. I've always loved bright blue," said the child, her voice thin and high, buoyed up by hope.
"What? Just one dress? Is that all? My, you don't have much to offer, do you?" at Carin's confused look, Cybil continued in a condescending manner, "I mean, a man won't get much out of marrying you, will he? I have a whole estate to my name. It was my mother's dowry, and shall be passed along to me. Was your mother's dowry a blue dress?" Cybil's tone had become aggressively, almost violently, friendly. I wanted to look away. I felt imaginary chains chafing my wrists as I pictured a lifetime spent allowing and even helping Cybil to bully whoever came her way, just because she could.
"No," answered Carin, still oblivious to the mocking undertones of Cybil's question. "My mother's dowry was a white dress. It was her wedding dress. And her horse. She was from the Bazhir, you see, and that's the custom-"
"The Bazhir!" exclaimed Cybil, fiendishly delighted, feigning surprise. "My goodness! I have heard such stories about them. Is it true that the women have fangs for teeth, and that is why they hide behind veils?"
The room tittered, Cybil smiled, and the hopeful expression that had filled Carin's face fell. Now she finally understood that the girls were mocking her. She looked as though she would cry.
"No," she answered softly.
"What is that, dear? I cannot hear you!" replied Cybil.
"No," Carin repeated.
"Oh my, we still can't hear. I suppose we'll have to check for ourselves. Someone be a dear and bring her over here!" commanded Cybil.
Some of the girls grabbed Carin by the arms and dragged her forward. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to watch this sort of wretched bullying. It seemed so.common was the only word I could think of. I did not want to appear to disapprove of Cybil, so I opened my eyes once more. She trembled and whimpered as she was brought before Cybil.
"Open her mouth!" came Cybil's decree, and many willing hands reached for Carin's jaw. She seemed like a frail girl, but I suppose it is only natural to fight in such a situation, and Carin fought. She snapped and bit the air with her teeth, and even though she did not actually bite one of the offensive hands, her actions were violent enough for the girls to withdraw slightly.
"Why, it must be true!" crowed Cybil, taking what seemed to much joy out of this. I have never enjoyed cruelty as much as she did, or as much as Roger for that matter. "Look how she snaps - like a horse!" Cybil continued. "It must be true what they say about the Bazhir and their horses! Of course, there's not much for it, their men being so horribly ugly, where's a girl to go?"
The girls laughed cruelly again, and Carin's cheeks reddened with an angry flush. In that moment I remembered being a little girl, being prodded from one place to another, dead and trembling as a doll, before I met David. I remembered even earlier than that, being cornered and chided by my mother and my nurse, being told I was beastly and a horrid girl, and the feeling of helpless rage that came with it. I could read that same rage in Carin's face, the desperate rage of the powerless, and in that moment I couldn't let Cybil continue.
"Oh, Cybil, who did you hear that from? From Ophelia, in her..conversations..with stable boys? I won't believe you are dealing with them yourself!" I said, anger flowing in my veins, making me incapable of detaching from the situation, of looking the other way as this girl was humiliated.
Cybil started, and glared at me. "Of course not, Delia, why? Are you being possessive of a new beau?" she asked, her tone that of light teasing. But I felt the enraged glare she sent in my direction, knew I was on dangerous ground. Nevertheless, I could not stop now. This was different from betraying Ophelia, different from insulting Blaise and Adela. I knew that they were deceitful snakes, that they would do the same to me in a moment, that treachery was second nature to them. Carin, on the other hand, was out of her depth in the Cloisters, was almost pitifully unprepared for the years to come. She could not even school herself enough to submit as a proper victim - instead, she fought. I remembered the day when David had convinced me to stop being a victim and to fight back with what power I had. You see, I understood her helpless rage, and even respected it. Carin snapped like a horse because she could not snap like a girl, and in that moment, although it was foolish, I simply had to defend her.
"Such stories are uncouth, and I want no part of them. As I have said before, a person with spirit is far more intriguing than a tedious bore. With such spirit, one wouldn't need to depend upon a dowry to attract attention." I was sure Cybil recognized the hidden slight, but refused eye contact with her. Instead I smiled indulgently at Carin, whose face was a study in confusion.
"Delia, you're too kind. But I suppose you cannot help but feel a sense of kinship with such .excitable.girls, considering your own past." Cybil's comment trailed off into an almost- threat.
"And just look how well I turned out!" I declared with a laugh. My laughter can be infectious at times, and enough girls joined me that Cybil realized she couldn't turn on me then. I had too many allies at that moment, was too strong. What is more, my statement contained a veiled threat of my own - I had overcome my unrefined past, and was a strong person in my own right. I was not Ophelia, to be duped and led about. If Cybil's gaze were an arrow I would have been dead several times over by this point, but after a few uneasy moments she joined in the laughter and we steered the conversation towards different topics.
I didn't look at Carin again that day. I was shocked by my own reckless stupidity. But I did not regret, still do not regret, it. Make no mistake, I am no altruist, but in that instance there was nothing else I could have done. To betray that girl, powerless and angry, would have been to betray myself. I could not do it, foolish as it was. When I wrote David about my foolish actions, he wrote back to say that he loved me for it, reckless though it might have been, and wasn't it funny that I was at my best when I was angry?
I could never regret anything that made him proud.
AN: Well, here's the next bit. I'm afraid I may have made some of the girls too mean or too physical, but, well, girls can be cruel.if I keep going I'll give away the chapter, so just suffice to say, if someone can tell me if I overdid it, I'd be grateful. Thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter. 'Me', as always I'm glad to hear from you (, Flailersrule, I've wanted to put Machiavelli in with the girls, so last chapter was my chance. I'm glad you liked it. Raven: Queen of the Rogue, I'm glad you liked the Shakespeare bits, I try to put them as fun extras if you read it, but have people who haven't read it still be able to enjoy the story, so I'm glad that worked out. As for your advice about changing the summery, it's well-taken, and I'll consider changing it to something more exciting at the very least (I'm horrible at writing summaries, I'll admit), but I'm afraid if I changed the summery to make it seem as though the story was about another character, then the Delia fans wouldn't see it (I'm sure there's Delia fans out there somewhere.or at least I hope there are ~_~), and I'd alienate or annoy the people who read it expecting something else (it's nice of you to say that they wouldn't mind once they started reading my story though). And also, part of the point of the story is to make Delia, if not one of the 'well loved' characters, at least a character that people understand and can identify with. Still, I'll think about making a better summary. And of course, thank you to everyone that reviews. Wow, this is a ridiculously long Author's Notes. Sorry about that. On to the story.
***
Shortly after that conversation, I recall the girls and I chatting in the sitting room, as we were wont to do on many leisurely afternoons and evenings. As the setting sun illuminated the group, casting a pleasant glow over most of us, the orange light caught Cybil's eyes, and for a moment she looked monstrous. She glanced quickly at me, her laugh no nonchalant and airy that I knew she had to be planning something. Then those hellfire-lit eyes landed upon a girl sitting quietly on the outskirts. She was new to the Cloisters. Her name was Carin, although I don't recall her family. She was not pretty. Her build was far too sturdy for a maidenly figure. Her hair was black, and her skin was a shade too dark to be purely Tortallan. Her every movement was tinged with fear, and she sat in a cringing manner, as though she knew she didn't belong here. In short, she was a ready victim.
"Carin," said Cybil, her smile pointed and dangerous.
"Y-yes?" answered the girl, starting at the unexpected address.
"What would you like to be in your dowry?" asked Cybil, bringing her into the discussion of the group. For a moment Carin looked hopeful, as though she would be accepted by the girls, as though she truly believed that Cybil was extending a welcoming hand. Cybil smiled in what was meant to be an ingratiating manner while her eyes flashed with the dying sun.
"I- I would truly love a nice blue gown. A really bright blue, not pale and pastel. I've always loved bright blue," said the child, her voice thin and high, buoyed up by hope.
"What? Just one dress? Is that all? My, you don't have much to offer, do you?" at Carin's confused look, Cybil continued in a condescending manner, "I mean, a man won't get much out of marrying you, will he? I have a whole estate to my name. It was my mother's dowry, and shall be passed along to me. Was your mother's dowry a blue dress?" Cybil's tone had become aggressively, almost violently, friendly. I wanted to look away. I felt imaginary chains chafing my wrists as I pictured a lifetime spent allowing and even helping Cybil to bully whoever came her way, just because she could.
"No," answered Carin, still oblivious to the mocking undertones of Cybil's question. "My mother's dowry was a white dress. It was her wedding dress. And her horse. She was from the Bazhir, you see, and that's the custom-"
"The Bazhir!" exclaimed Cybil, fiendishly delighted, feigning surprise. "My goodness! I have heard such stories about them. Is it true that the women have fangs for teeth, and that is why they hide behind veils?"
The room tittered, Cybil smiled, and the hopeful expression that had filled Carin's face fell. Now she finally understood that the girls were mocking her. She looked as though she would cry.
"No," she answered softly.
"What is that, dear? I cannot hear you!" replied Cybil.
"No," Carin repeated.
"Oh my, we still can't hear. I suppose we'll have to check for ourselves. Someone be a dear and bring her over here!" commanded Cybil.
Some of the girls grabbed Carin by the arms and dragged her forward. I closed my eyes. I didn't want to watch this sort of wretched bullying. It seemed so.common was the only word I could think of. I did not want to appear to disapprove of Cybil, so I opened my eyes once more. She trembled and whimpered as she was brought before Cybil.
"Open her mouth!" came Cybil's decree, and many willing hands reached for Carin's jaw. She seemed like a frail girl, but I suppose it is only natural to fight in such a situation, and Carin fought. She snapped and bit the air with her teeth, and even though she did not actually bite one of the offensive hands, her actions were violent enough for the girls to withdraw slightly.
"Why, it must be true!" crowed Cybil, taking what seemed to much joy out of this. I have never enjoyed cruelty as much as she did, or as much as Roger for that matter. "Look how she snaps - like a horse!" Cybil continued. "It must be true what they say about the Bazhir and their horses! Of course, there's not much for it, their men being so horribly ugly, where's a girl to go?"
The girls laughed cruelly again, and Carin's cheeks reddened with an angry flush. In that moment I remembered being a little girl, being prodded from one place to another, dead and trembling as a doll, before I met David. I remembered even earlier than that, being cornered and chided by my mother and my nurse, being told I was beastly and a horrid girl, and the feeling of helpless rage that came with it. I could read that same rage in Carin's face, the desperate rage of the powerless, and in that moment I couldn't let Cybil continue.
"Oh, Cybil, who did you hear that from? From Ophelia, in her..conversations..with stable boys? I won't believe you are dealing with them yourself!" I said, anger flowing in my veins, making me incapable of detaching from the situation, of looking the other way as this girl was humiliated.
Cybil started, and glared at me. "Of course not, Delia, why? Are you being possessive of a new beau?" she asked, her tone that of light teasing. But I felt the enraged glare she sent in my direction, knew I was on dangerous ground. Nevertheless, I could not stop now. This was different from betraying Ophelia, different from insulting Blaise and Adela. I knew that they were deceitful snakes, that they would do the same to me in a moment, that treachery was second nature to them. Carin, on the other hand, was out of her depth in the Cloisters, was almost pitifully unprepared for the years to come. She could not even school herself enough to submit as a proper victim - instead, she fought. I remembered the day when David had convinced me to stop being a victim and to fight back with what power I had. You see, I understood her helpless rage, and even respected it. Carin snapped like a horse because she could not snap like a girl, and in that moment, although it was foolish, I simply had to defend her.
"Such stories are uncouth, and I want no part of them. As I have said before, a person with spirit is far more intriguing than a tedious bore. With such spirit, one wouldn't need to depend upon a dowry to attract attention." I was sure Cybil recognized the hidden slight, but refused eye contact with her. Instead I smiled indulgently at Carin, whose face was a study in confusion.
"Delia, you're too kind. But I suppose you cannot help but feel a sense of kinship with such .excitable.girls, considering your own past." Cybil's comment trailed off into an almost- threat.
"And just look how well I turned out!" I declared with a laugh. My laughter can be infectious at times, and enough girls joined me that Cybil realized she couldn't turn on me then. I had too many allies at that moment, was too strong. What is more, my statement contained a veiled threat of my own - I had overcome my unrefined past, and was a strong person in my own right. I was not Ophelia, to be duped and led about. If Cybil's gaze were an arrow I would have been dead several times over by this point, but after a few uneasy moments she joined in the laughter and we steered the conversation towards different topics.
I didn't look at Carin again that day. I was shocked by my own reckless stupidity. But I did not regret, still do not regret, it. Make no mistake, I am no altruist, but in that instance there was nothing else I could have done. To betray that girl, powerless and angry, would have been to betray myself. I could not do it, foolish as it was. When I wrote David about my foolish actions, he wrote back to say that he loved me for it, reckless though it might have been, and wasn't it funny that I was at my best when I was angry?
I could never regret anything that made him proud.