~O~

What's Wrong With You?

The next meeting seemed to take an age.

Donna was silent as she remained in her place nearest Mother Miranda, ignoring the constant bickering between Alcina and Karl. Something about the new subjects and how they would be shared amongst them, she assumed. Her mind had been wandering somewhat lately. She thought of a few things she could make around her home. New dresses, perhaps?

"...you are all free to aid in my research," Miranda seemed disinterested in the offer from Salvatore to help her. "However you see fit."

He seemed to be happy with that - it was a first, really. Donna found his miserable presence to repulse her often.

Donna remembered when she had felt miserable the way he did; when her parents had died and she had been left alone. When the other ones came to her after Miranda had given her a gift. The cold, empty house had been alive then.

(Can you see them? They're going to do that to you!)

(Can you feel them watching? They're watching her.)

Donna was afraid to be here for too long. She should have grown used to it by now after the years had passed and the thing that lived in her face made its home.

(She knows you're here.)

(She wants to go back! She's scared. Go back!)

The Lycans were there, in the shadows and above them. They were restless for a meal, but always kept their distance from the Lords. Donna didn't like them. They always smelled terribly and made constant, irritating noises.

"Dismissed." Miranda finally said.

Thank God. Donna was eager to be away from them. Her mind was clouded with distractions, all of which involved tasks she wanted to perform and the constant rumbling of chatter around her didn't help keep her focused.

(Just hide away. No one will judge you, you know.)

(They expect it by now.)

"Donna."

The woman had nearly departed the Chapel when she was addressed by Alcina. She looked up at the taller woman. Alcina seemed to be curious about something; her smile was thoughtful, deeply contemplative and she tilted her head.

"Bela tells me the little thief made it to your door," she said. "Any reason why he'd go to you?"

Donna shook her head. Then, she thought about it.

"Maybe he thought we'd show him mercy," Angie hissed.

Alcina let out a titter of amusement. "Mercy? You? All you do is play with your food."

Donna would have laughed herself. Well, at least Alcina didn't underestimate her. There was often a little glimmer of respect. She had hers.

(Idiot! You're so stupid!)

Donna looked up, noticing the three daughters of Dimitrescu moving to meet their mother and lead her toward a nearby carriage. She felt herself freezing at the sight of Bela giving her a little wave and a wink. Why did she do that?

Immediately, she turned to leave, failing to see the odd look on Bela's face.

When Donna returned to her estate, her first thought was to prepare some hot tea for the evening and listen to some music to calm her nerves.

She adjusted the little needle on her gramophone while the water boiled in the kitchen. The dolls were talking to one another and it did ease the tense silence she felt.

It made her smile now when the music played on the gramophone. "Nocturne in B Flat Minor, Opera nine Number one." she said, to herself, "'A Madame Camille Pleyel'."

She knew every single detail of her father's music. He played it often when he would clean a deer from a hunt and mother would prepare tea.

She started to wash her hands, but the hissing in her head returned.

She saw herself scrubbing.

Became obsessed with the cleanliness of her hands.

Donna felt her breath growing faster. Her lips pursed and she didn't hear the whimper of distress that burst from her own throat.

She saw a flash of blood on her hands. Saw herself as a little girl crying as she tried to wash it all away in the sink. She could even smell it, in the back corners of her brain. Where the shadows lingered.

The little ones had tried to comfort her.

"Are you still going to cry about it?" Other Donna sighed, beside her, leaning against the sink.

Donna continued to scrub her hands, reaching beneath the nails. She ignored her and it made Other Donna roll her eyes.

"Oh, now you're ignoring me?"

"I will ignore you." Donna whispered, trembling with emotion. "I'm stronger now."

Other Donna crowed with laughter. "Really?" she sneered, "That's not how I remember you the first fifteen years of your life."

"Shut up!" Donna suddenly shouted in a high voice, slamming her hands against the edge of the sink. It cracked the wood around it from the inhuman strength in her hands. Strength she never needed to use.

The voices had quieted down, for now. But they were still there, curled up in the shadows waiting for another weakness to show through the cracks. She heard Angie's voice now, soft and curious and not the usual grating in her head.

The doll drifted into her arms and she held her tightly, little cries escaping her. Thank God none of the others saw her this way.

"You have a lot on your mind," Angie said, "I know. It's a whole lot. That's why I'm here."

(Focus. She needs to focus now.)

(Coward.)

O

Donna saw her again at the castle when she'd returned the books to Alcina regarding the flowers. Bela was content to float around her with a playful giggle. Donna's initial instincts were to run from her and avoid the sickle she was sure was hiding in her dress somewhere. She was far too tense.

Why was she doing this? Was she toying with her?

Somewhere in the dining hall, a servant girl had screamed.

"Daniela!" Alcina's voice echoed in the air. "What did I say? Never at the dining hall! Be practical!"

"Yes, mother." Daniela said, evenly.

"What are you crying about, you stupid girl? It's just a fork. Clean yourself up and get back to the kitchen!"

"Y-Yes, mistress."

Bela crowed with laughter, then tilted her head at Donna's silence. "You're not a talkative kind of person, are you?"

Donna frowned internally at that.

"What?" Bela said, with a shrug. She smirked beneath her hood. "You don't want me around you?"

No. Not particularly. Donna felt on edge with the other woman there. Still, perhaps it would have been worse if it were Cassandra or Daniela. They had a tendency to make a mess of things without thought to what went on around them.

Perhaps the company could have been worse.

She was pleasing to look at, too. Not nearly as blood-soaked and the smell of her perfume was pleasant. Something in flowers, perhaps. Not like the sharp scents of Alcina's cigarettes and powders. Donna found that she didn't mind it.

The warmth that came to her cheeks when Bela smiled and winked at her was strange, too. She didn't know why it made her blush so.

Of course she did.

(Watch out. She might have a weapon.)

(Why isn't she moving? What does she want?)

(Don't be stupid. Don't let her in.)

"Hey, you want that book up there?" Bela questioned, gesturing to one just out of Donna's reach. "I bet you could use it."

She took it, handed it to Donna. The woman turned it in her hand for study and Angie looked as well before hissing out.

"Is that blood?"

Bela sucked her teeth. "Don't worry about it." she said, with a grin to follow.

Donna studied the book, looked down at the intricate writing, then back up to Bela. She gave a nod, which earned a strange, almost confused frown on Bela's face before she disappeared in a swarm of flies when she was summoned by Alcina.

A new book on medicinal practices of plants. It would be useful.

Alcina entered the room and her features lit up when she noticed Donna there. "Ah! Donna! You've returned my books." she said. "Have they been useful to you?"

A small nod from Donna. Very much so.

"Good!"

Alcina's smile was friendly. She seemed to be in a good mood today and Donna watched as she clasped her hands together.

"Well, you're just being generous, aren't you?" Angie hissed, waving her arms at the larger woman.

Alcina gave the doll an impatient sigh, slouching her shoulders. "Donna, you simply must use your words." she chided, "I won't speak to a thing of porcelain and cloth. I prefer to speak with you. You're a Lord, you know. You must learn to act like it if you expect to be taken seriously."

"I am talking to you." Angie snapped, annoyed now.

"Donna, don't be ridiculous, I - " Alcina turned when there was a crash in the kitchen. Her tone took on a dangerous edge. "That STUPID girl."

Stupid indeed.

O

Don't be ridiculous.

Donna had closed her eyes as she sat at the foot of her porch, thinking of the words from Alcina; ridiculous was something she'd been used to hearing most of her life. From being comforted by her dolls and speaking with them.

That's what they always told her in the past when she would hide herself away. The world would have seen the scar she had been ashamed of before the Cadou had been kept in her head. She was grateful that Mother Miranda had given her a chance, but she loathed what it made her look like.

She was upset.

The voices had begun talking all at once while she worked.

They were hovering around her; various ages and versions of herself. The cloud in her head had grown heavier.

"What's she doing?" an eight year old Donna asked.

Teenage Donna was sitting beside her, smiling warmly. "You're doing fine. She knows what she's doing. She knows it'll make her feel better."

Too fast.

Too much.

Donna clutched her head with two hands.

The voices had become a violent roar in her head, talking all at once.

But then, Bela's sigh filling the air cut through the storm and silenced the voices completely. Donna froze, eye widening behind her veil as she stared through the shadows.

The silence hurt almost as much as the voices. But she was confused. Dumbfounded by it. She looked around, taking a moment to breathe.

Bela was floating through the air in half-form and Donna looked up, watching her.

(She stopped them.)

(It's gone quiet. How did she do that?)

(What did she do? She made it quiet!)

Bela hovered there before her, features a mask of conflict. "Hey, what's wrong with me, huh?" she snapped. "Why do you keep ignoring me?"

Ignoring?

"You don't talk to me! What's the matter? Am I not good enough for a Lord to talk to?" Bela demanded, her voice a shrill sound filled with confusion and hurt.

Donna didn't understand; what did she say or do to make her feel this way? She felt distressed by Bela's pacing, confused by the behavior. Her shoulders tensed, her throat catching. The sounds of her voice hurt her.

(She doesn't understand.)

(Of course she doesn't. You're so quiet.)

Bela was a young thing who favored approval of others, especially her mother; she wasn't used to being ignored or seemingly looked down upon. Donna didn't believe she'd done any of those things, but perhaps Bela hadn't understood what she was. Why she spoke through the doll. Why she hid away.

"Don't you like me?"

Donna spoke now, the wounded pitch in Bela's angry tone cutting through her enough to rip her real voice from behind the veil.

"I like you!" she suddenly blurted out.

Bela's angry glare dwindled from her face, replaced with blank shock. Her cheeks warmed in a light pink flush. It was the first time a Dimitrescu blushed.

The silence that passed only lasted for a second and Donna watched Bela's features twist in disbelief. Her cheeks were still red.

"What's wrong with you?!" she shrieked.

Donna watched as she disappeared in a swarm of flies to return to the castle.

She heard the Other Donna again and saw her leaning against the wall, laughing softly.

"She's right, you know." she said, amused. "What IS wrong with you?"

O

Bela returned to the castle, her very form radiating with frustration. The flies were frantic around her as she made her way to the kitchen. It caught Alcina's attentions and she frowned thoughtfully.

"Bela? Come here." she ordered.

Bela stopped at the door, then drifted up to her, assuming her shape. "Yes, mother."

"Darling, what's the matter?" Alcina asked, looking down at her with a warmth only her daughters received. "Your buzzing louder today. Did Donna say something to you to upset you?"

Bela froze where she stood.

"Please, you believe I haven't watched you visit her estate?" Alcina smiled now. "Is that curiosity or impulse?"

Bela huffed somewhat, shaking her head. She didn't understand. "She's ignoring me."

"She's not ignoring you, Bela." Alcina said, with a dismissive wave of her hand. "That is just how Donna is. She speaks through that terrible porcelain monstrosity of hers, but rest assured, she's aware and addressing you as she does."

"Oh?" Bela looked confused.

"Donna isn't of sound mind, to put it delicately," Alcina continued, studying her daughter with a grimace, "You'll have to be patient with her if you continue to visit."

Bela looked surprised now. "If I..."

"Dear, it's no concern of mine who you choose to play with," Alcina told her, with a grin. "But play nice and carefully. She is a Lord, after all."

"Yes, mother."

Play nice.

Bela could do that.

Maybe.

But for now, she would rest; surely her sisters would have lots to joke about. She was used to that by now.

Once she ventured into their room, she saw them waiting for her, crouched near the fireplace.

"Look, she's back," Cassandra hissed, with a wide grin on her face.

"Aww, did she reject you?" Daniela teased, laying on the floor on her belly with her legs kicking in the air.

Bela rolled her eyes. "Shut up, you little insect."

"We're all insects, dummy."

Daniela emphasized that by tossing a pillow at Bela's side, to which the older one smacked away in an annoyed growl. Cassandra was laying on one of the chaise lounges, studying her sickle with a smirk.

"Please, she didn't get rejected." she said, "I bet she messed up and ran back crying to mother."

The two laughed and Bela bared her teeth. Cassandra bared hers right back and let out a series of mocking laughs to follow. Daniela did the same and the oldest Dimitrescu drifted from the room to the washroom. She began to scrub her face, ignoring the teasing from her sisters outside. She was now more curious than ever about the little dollmaker.

It had only been for fun. Now it was a need.