PAIRINGS: Luce & Luce's Mother-centric, Minor Arcobaleno & Luce, Minor Luce/Original Character(s)

TAGS: Pre-Canon, POV Third Person Limited

Angst and Feels, Hurt No Comfort, Grief/Mourning

Character Study, Relationship Study, Arcobaleno Curse, Sad and Hopeful Ending

Luce-centric, Luce Friendly

WARNING: Not Beta Read

Luce realizes young her life isn't meant to be hers.

After breakfast—alone today, like most days, like how she most often eats lunch and dinner alone too—, her nanny doesn't ask her what she wants to do today. She doesn't ask if she already has plans made for the day.

Her nanny hands her a schedule.

Says, "You should go change and get ready now, Princess, so you can go join Donna Giglio Nero. I'll get the car ready shortly."

Luce reads through the schedule—her schedule, which can't have been written down more than an hour ago. Mother's schedules aren't ever written down and are only spoken about out loud by selected few and trusted people, yet she always remembers them perfectly.

Luce tries to memorize hers too, knowing her nanny will get rid of it as soon as Luce hands it back to her. She still can't be expected to do it successfully on her first try, and knows her nanny will step in and guide her through the day as needed.

It's lucky, because she has a hard time focusing on the task at hand.

Luce's now old enough to have schedules of her own too.

Then from now on, she'll be expected to sit through her lessons from beginning to end. No more indulging her when she complains about hunger or boredom, or a bright, pretty sun she wants to go play under. No more playing cute to be allowed to step out of meetings with no end in sight, or functions where she gets tired of not being in the know too of all that isn't said.

No more playtime altogether, probably, not when there's now more important things for her to learn with her free time. At least, she doesn't see any amount of time dedicated to it on the schedule. Just a break time for lunch, but maybe she'll just have playtime less often and for shorter amount of times until she becomes a little more old enough to not need them anymore. That'd be nice.

What about sick days? Mother still works when she's sick, unless she's really sick.

Will they still let Luce stay in bed until she's healthy again like they've been doing until now? Or she'll have to be really sick too for them to let her stay in bed?

Luce should still be young enough they'll keep letting her stay in bed a while longer, isn't she?

She hopes so.

Luce hands her schedule back to her nanny. Her nanny folds it again and puts it back in the inside pocket of her jacket, her face unreadable.

So is Luce's, she hopes. She's been trying to keep it that way ever since she realized her nanny handed her a schedule.

Her schedule.

Her nanny doesn't move, doesn't get her moving either. She stays silent as they hold each other's gaze, waiting for something. Expecting something from her.

Complaints, maybe. Sadness and anger. Demands for explanations and Luce trying to get herself out of this.

She does already have plans for today.

The daughter of the owner of the restaurant they like to go to invited her to her birthday party today. It's a normal cafe and they're civilians, but Mother had let them learn to know each other anyway whenever they happened to run into each other.

Mother had given her permission to attend too.

Luce had been looking forwards to it.

She smiles. "Okay. I'll go change and get ready." She walks past her nanny before her smile can fail her in front of her.

It doesn't, even once she's out of her sight and alone in her room.

It's okay. It's a simple thing, really, a simple fact about the life she lives and the life she's been born into. Enough of a given she didn't need anyone to take her hand to walk her through it, though that'd have been nice too if anyone did.

Luce's life has never been meant to be hers, even when they were all playing pretend, acting as if it wasn't the case while she was still young enough to be indulged with it. She's the Giglio Nero family Princess after all. She's the family's heir, the only one, meaning she's the only one who'll be able to walk in Mother's steps after her.

She will. She wants to be ready for it too when the time will come, wants to be competent at it.

She's willing to be the one to walk in Mother's steps after her.

Someone has to to keep the family safe and prospering, and Luce loves her family. It's the least she can do in return for them raising her and keeping her safe while she grows up, at the risk of their own lives if need be.

Luce looks at her reflection in the mirror, smooths out any wrinkles out of place on her clothes, and tries to look the part of a child old enough to have a schedule of her own.

She does her best staying by Mother's side all day, learning by watching and listening. By asking questions too once it's only Mother and her. Otherwise she stays quiet unless spoken to, and tries not to make a fool of herself or Mother when they do.

Only once or twice, her mind strays to the birthday party she thought she'd be at instead. She'd have sung "Happy Birthday" with everyone else, and would have clapped once Liliana'd have blown out her candles. She'd have enjoyed sharing cake with everyone else and would have cheered and complimented every present Liliana'd have gotten as she opened them, hoping she'd like hers too. They'd have played together, chatted together, smiling and laughing.

Luce would be having more fun than she is right now.

Only once or twice, Luce makes note to send her a letter to apologize for missing her birthday, as well as one wishing her a happy one. A letter she'd have written by herself with her own words in it, that is, as they must have already sent one in her name along with her present.

She hopes they did anyway.

She will be upset if they didn't, or if she isn't allowed to write her own.

Luce is still young enough to decide who to be friends with, and which friendships matter to her for her to put in the necessary efforts and care so they'd last.

Mother comes back home with her that day, much earlier than she'd have otherwise. It means they get to have dinner together that night, and her first real smile of the day ghosts the corner of her lips.

It means that from now on, they'll get to have at least dinner together every day, and it makes up for the fact that as she keeps growing older, they'll eat it later and later as Mother will stop coming back early from work in consideration of her sleep schedule.

They're given cake for desserts. A big and pretty-looking one, a fancy-looking one like the ones they get for their birthdays.

Mother runs her hand through her hair. "You did well today."

Luce's heart swells, she can't help it. Mother's rarely openly affectionate or encouraging, and she can't help soaking it up like she always does, tucking it carefully in a corner of her heart for the days when she'll need it.

Mother says nothing else though, and so Luce's left to guess on her own as she takes a bite of the cake.

It's delicious. But is it a reward or an apology? Is it both?

It doesn't taste like either, and doesn't manage to get a smile out of her either way. Mother's hand still in her hair doesn't manage to either, whether it's affection or guilt.

There's nothing written on the cake, no lit candles on it. There's only Mother and her in the dining room, and only silence to accompany their meal.

Luce wasn't looking forwards to the birthday party because she wanted to eat cake.

She catches Mother's eye and smiles. "Thank you, Mother."

She means it.

Luce made Mother proud today, and it's what matters the most in the end, isn't it?

A/N: Mom said it's Luce's turn to get a centric-fic from me all about the shitty cards life dealt her with and how brave she is about it. 💖 I don't know how many chapters this is going to be, but I'm already more than 10k in, so buckle up for the ride!

I hope you enjoyed the chapter. Any and all reviews are appreciated.

Thank you for reading!

- Hope