Okay, the first thing that you guys will notice is that Eilidh is not mentioned in this, when she actually really should be because she played a part in Cassie's childhood. This is, however, because I started writing this before Eilidh became involved and, being the lazy sod I am, didn't want to rewrite XD Sorry Eilidh! I'm thinking about doing another one though, which will hopefully have her in! this is my longest Gone RP oneshot, and there's a bit of storytelling and stuff XD I finally finished it yesterday night, so yay! So yeah. Ta dah! A Cassie oneshot :D Hope you like!
Cassandra
Empty
A plump wood pigeon perches comfortably on the window sill of a large white building, which has stood in the city of Yekaterinburg for over three hundred years. It coos softly, blinking it's beady eyes, staring through the window into a large room, which, despite being full of finery, is dimly lit and in a state of disorder. The bird cocks its head, gawking at a small, hunched figure with a swathe of fair hair spilling down it's back, before abruptly launching itself off of the sill in order to avoid the small avalanche of snow which topples from the roof and nearly knocks it to the ground. It flaps away into the grey sky, dodging the snow beginning to fall. The small figure watches it go with blank grey eyes, shivering slightly and wrapping her arms around her skinny form. She sits in the half darkness, in the ruins of finery. A little girl pretending to be a princess.
The room is brighter now, more tidy, the lamps glowing softly and spread a gently sheen of gold over the room. The young woman sits at the window, resting comfortably on gold and cream pillows, her hair gracefully coiled into an elegant bun, her figure fuller than before with more soft curves than protruding bones. The eyes, though, are the same. Outside, the snow is still falling, casting flecks of darkness over her face as she gazes out. The same sense of desperation, sense of loneliness radiates from her just as it did more than twenty years before. She tries not to dwell on the past, but now, looking out into the whirling snow, the sudden memory of the day she sat on the floor of this same bedroom, looked out of this same window at a round wood pigeon, claws its way up from the depths of voluntary oblivion and into her mind.
The room was wrecked, furniture smashed, clothes littering the floor, books defaced and scattered around the room. But it was none of that which drew her attention. Slowly she walked towards the door opposite her, which led into the room next door…
But no. She didn't want to think about that. When she thinks about that the emptiness she tries to supress rises up again and consumes her. She tried to divert her thoughts from the subject, but only succeeded in shifting them towards a different memory.
They were all scared of her. She could tell. And with good reason. The staff cowered in front of her as she walked through the corridors, bobbing curtsies, bowing, never meeting her eyes. It felt amazingly powerful to have so much respect, but at the same time it felt…weirdly empty. It was strange, people being too cared of you to even meet your eyes. She'd been ruler of Zone 4 for over two weeks down and had a firm grasp over the people by now. At first there had been resistance, but a couple of visions had given her plenty of warning and any rebellions had been ruthlessly and brutally crushed. She had, however, also organised help and support for those in need. Whilst her excuse to the others for this was that a ruler needed her people to fear and love her, a small part of her had to admit that it was because she knew how it felt to be cold and helpless and starving, and didn't want others to suffer the same fate, not if they were going to be good subjects. One of her ministers(she had found a group who would help implement her laws like good little lapdogs) had found her the staff because he, unlike Cassie, had realised that she was too young to live alone, especially in the Kharitonov Palace. Cassie had to admit to herself that it was slightly humiliating that, although she could destroy rebel armies with a wave of her hand, she couldn't make herself proper food or even adequately dress herself for the Russian winters. She reached her bedroom and walked inside, shutting the door behind her. The room was large, with pale blue wallpaper decorated with silver. The canopy bed matched, as did the thickly carpeted floor. She was a few steps into the room before she realised that she wasn't alone. There was a woman standing by the fireplace, in which a roaring fire had been set, a woman who seemed to be in her mid-twenties, with black hair and a sallow complexion. She was wearing the blue and white uniform of the staff and bobbed a curtsy when Cassie stared at her.
"Who are you?" she asked, frowning at the woman.
"My name is Irina, Miss." She said, straightening up. "I will be your personal maid."
"I haven't needed a personal maid so far." Cassie said abruptly, staring at this strange woman.
"Well you've got one now." The woman said pleasantly, smiling at her.
Cassie was still staring at her, unsure what to make of her. On the surface, this woman seemed agreeable and good-natured enough, but in her eyes, Cassie could glimpse a hint of steel.
"Huh." She turned away from the woman, taking off her coat and discarding it on the floor, expecting her to pick it up. She had sat down in a chair and picked up a book before she realised the woman had not moved. Slowly she lowered the book. "Why haven't you picked that up?" she said, hating the childish, petulant quality to her voice.
"I'm waiting for you to pick it up." Irina replied, still smiling pleasantly.
"You're my servant. I don't pay you to wait for me to pick things up myself." Cassie said haughtily, closing the book with a snap. "Pick it up."
"I think that young girls should learn to clean up after themselves, even if they are little Tsarinas." The woman answered, her voice stern.
"Well I don't care what you think! So I'm not going to! So there!" Cassie folded her arms, pouting.
"Pick it up. Now." The woman said, her voice commanding.
"No!" Cassie slid down from the chair and stamped her foot. "I won't! I am the ruler of Zone 4 and you have no right to speak to me in this way!"
"You are also a little girl who needs to be disciplined. How else will you be a good ruler? You will pick up that coat now and hang it on the coat stand, or I will put you over my knee and give you a good smacking."
"You can't speak to me like that!" Cassie howled. "You can't do that to me! I'm not a little girl! I'm your ruler!" Darkness began to curl around her fingertips. "I'll punish you! I will!"
"You are a spoilt little girl." Irina said calmly. "And you will pick up that coat right this instant."
Cassie was never quite sure what happened. All she knew was that the Darkness vanished, her hands reached out and she picked up the coat. She hung it on the coat stand, before turning to stare at Irina, who was smiling kindly.
"Good girl." The maid said. "Now, I thought maybe we could play a game."
"A game?" Cassie replied slightly faintly, still shocked that she'd actually obeyed the maids orders. "I…I'm a leader! A child of Darkness! I don't play games!"
"I think that that's part of the problem." The woman said, her arms still folded. "You are a child, but you're not getting the chance to be a child. You've had all this responsibility thrust upon you before you are ready and if you don't take time out to act your age, it's going to break you. I'm here to help you, Cassandra."
The little girl stared at her, her lip trembling slightly, her grey eyes wide. After a moment she said in a cracked voice, "I don't know how to play. I've never done it before."
"I'll teach you." The woman reached out a hand to her, and to her surprise the girl found herself taking it. "We can play together."
The snow has formed deep drifts, partially covering some of the windows on the ground floor. The woman stares out over the gardens, the snow stretching out in a deep white blanket, unblemished. There are small lumps where bushes are concealed, and breaks here and there where a tall tree spreads its branches in a protective canopy, but no footprints mark the powdery white, not tracks are scattered across the thick coat. It's beautiful. She sits there, her breath misting up the icy window thinking how beautifiul it is. A blank canvas. Clean and cold and unblemished and empty. So, so empty.
Her damp hair straggles into her eyes as she runs through the snow, her boots sinking deep into the powdery white, leaving a trail of footprints behind her. Her heart is thudding like crazy in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps, her fingers numb with cold, even inside their thick fur lined mittens. Her pursuer finally seizes her; hands go around her waist grabbing her tightly and spinning her around. She laughs and wriggles, but Irina just spins her faster before setting her back down. Together they make snow angels and have snowball sights until their cheeks are bright red, their noses numb. They walk back inside and leave their coats to dry whilst they sit by the fire and drink hot tea, both wrapped in warm blankets. Every night, Irina tucks her in, making sure she's warm and comfortable and has enough blankets. On the third night, she gives her Arthur, a honey coloured teddy bear who smiles up at her with his embroidered mouth.
"He'll keep you safe." Irina tells her with a teasing smile. "While I'm not here. He's such a fierce bear; he'll frighten off any bad dreams."
Cassie laughs, clutching the bear tighter, his friendly brown eyes gazing up at her as Irina sits by her and tells her bedtimes stories about dragons and mermaids in far off lands, and sings to her until she drifts off to sleep. The teddy bear holds sentinel all night long.
The bed is empty. She runs a hand over the blankets, before lying down on the other side, resting her head on the pillow and breathing in his smell, warm familiar and comforting. He smells like sunlight, like warmth, like comfort. Like home. She is away from home at the moment. Maybe she should do something else while she waits. Maybe she could go out, out to the markets, explore, look around. She used to go there all the time. Maybe she should try again. She immediately shrinks away from the thought. The pain that it brings is too great.
The market is jam packed. Irina is holding her hand firmly as she is guided through the throng of people, around the stalls, the people selling their wares, people trying to make purchases and people trying to steal whatever they can get their hands on. Irina has dressed her appropriately; in her furs she'd stick out like a sore thumb; here her attire is almost entirely comprised of wool in various degrees to thickness. Her hair is different as well; it only took a little Darkness to make it darker and to change the shape of her face. Irina shows her everything, introducing her to the stallholders she knows pretending that she's her goddaughter. Serafina, she tells them, is Cassie's name. Serafina.
"Why did you chose this Zone?" Irina asks that night as she's brushing Cassie's hair.
The little girl stares in the mirror for a moment, before answering. "My mother and father came from here. Yekaterinburg."
"What happened? To your parents?" Irina gently tucks a couple of strands of hair behind Cassie's ear.
"My mother died when I was three. I was glad. I hated her. I never knew my father."
"If you hated her, why did you want to come here? Are you looking for your father?"
"No." Cassie kept staring at herself in the mirror. "I guess I just…just wanted to find somewhere where I could feel like I belonged."
The woman paused. "You belong here. With us. You will be a fine ruler, Cassie." She kissed the top of the little girl's head. "Done. Now bed."
The visions are strong today. She fights against them, pushing them down, away, so she doesn't have to look at them. Not yet. Not now. She breaths in his scent again, wishing he was here to hold her when they finally took over. She's got better at controlling them though, over the years. Once upon a time she'd have had no choice. The only way to escape would have been to take medication, and that…that hadn't turned out well.
She should have seen it coming.
She should have faced up to the visions, not tried to hide from them, shouldn't have taken the pills that would sooth her nerves and stop them, should have been listening, itching, should have stopped it.
They were gone by the time she arrived back in Yekaterinburg. The grounds were littered with the bodies of dead staff, dead soldiers, dead rebels.
They wanted to make sure it was safe, search the premises, but she ran inside before they could stop her, through the entrance hall, past the dead butler, up the stairs. She slowed down when she reached her room. Slowly she pushed the door open.
The room was wrecked, furniture smashed, clothes littering the floor, books defaced and scattered around the room. She moved slowly through the room, staring around in disbelief. Something crunched under foot; she stepped back hastily and saw the shattered remains of a china doll that she and Irina had had a dolls tea party with the day before. She slowly stepped over the porcelain corpse, kept moving through the room. Her foot hit something soft, and she stared down at the decapitated body of Arthur. His head was lying a little way away, one eye missing. She picked him up slowly, before going after the head. His stuffing was hanging out. She gulped back tears, placing him carefully on the bed, before stiffening. There were droplets of blood scattered over the floor. She turned, staring at the door to the adjoining room which was ajar. Slowly she walked towards the door, feeling clumsy, uncoordinated. She pushed the door open, the door to Irina's room.
She had met the same fate as the teddy bear.
Cassie could remember nothing after that but the screaming.
They still whispered about the Yekaterinburg Rebellion today. How she had found every single rebel and had them burnt alive in the middle of the town square. She could remember none of it, not until three days after the executions. It was better that way. The few rare occasions she could remember she could only scream. She took a deep breath, her face pressed into his pillow, her arms curled around it, holding it to her chest. He was missing again today. Locked away upstairs in his private room. She had only been there a few times, in his attic, and only with his permission. She didn't know why he went there, but it was too often, too frequently for her liking. Why would he need to be anywhere other than with her? Didn't he love her? Didn't he need her like she needed him?
Oh God she needed him.
So empty.
So empty she could suck everything around her in, a black hole, a supernova. She needed his love, needed it to fill the emptiness, but it never filled her, never left her whole, just left her needing more and more, left needing to hear his voice, his voice in his ear whispering that he loved, feel his arms around her. Needing to feel like she belonged.
His soft, charming voice in her ear, telling her what she wanted, needed to hear, enchanting her, pulling her in until every moment without him dragged her closer and closer to insanity. The two of them pressed so close together, her arms holding him so close, so close, so he would fill the abyss, make her feel alive, loved, wanted.
He stopped the screams.
When her angel was there, the screams stopped and all she could feel, all she could hear, all she knew was him.
A little girl playing at being a Princess.
But everyone knows that a Princess is nothing without her Prince.